


Play Pretend, Find a Friend?

by angelichl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Boys In Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Frat Boy Harry Styles, Kinda?, Kissing, M/M, Nerd Louis, Pining, Rugby, Smut, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelichl/pseuds/angelichl
Summary: They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 193
Kudos: 2786
Collections: Best fics, FOUR





	Play Pretend, Find a Friend?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I can't believe I wrote this. This is a pinch hit. I'm turning it in way past the deadline because I suck. Also we should all take a moment to listen to [Clouds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VyotcwmZE3w) again because this song slaps.
> 
> Warnings for some mentions of non-violent homophobia and also Louis' ex-boyfriend cheating on him and just overall being an asshole.
> 
> :)

_ SOMEDAY, YOU’RE GOING TO SEE THE THINGS THAT I SEE. YOU’RE GOING TO WANT THE AIR THAT I BREATHE. YOU’RE GOING TO WISH YOU NEVER LEFT ME. _

**i.**

It happened, as most stupid, momentous mistakes tended to happen, when Louis was drunk.

Four cups of vodka mixed with Hawaiian punch could not drown out his sorrows. It was his first time attending a party in more than a semester, and he didn’t want to be here, but his friends had kidnapped him earlier, forced him into a respectable outfit and dragged him along into the night.

He used to love going out on Friday nights, didn’t he? He used to love squeezing into his favorite pair of black skinny jeans and helping Zayn fix his hair and raiding Liam’s fridge for jello shots and peach flavored champagne. He used to love dancing to bad music and stepping outside for a smoke and sneaking away early to spend the night in his boyfriend’s dorm room, filling the quiet darkness with heady, exploratory sex marked by drunken declarations of love.

He used to love going to parties, but then he found out that Landon was cheating on him, and that he had been cheating on him for months. That was when Louis stopped loving going to parties and stopped loving going out in general and only ever really wanted to cry a little in the shower and curl up naked in his own bed, in his own dark and lonely room, his skin raw from scrubbing it so hard.

He went to his classes and completed his assignments, wrote essays and studied for exams and ate meals in the dining hall and took showers and went to sleep as early as he possibly could and that was it. He stopped going out, stopped hanging out with friends, stopped talking, stopped thinking. Liam and Zayn were worried about him but there wasn’t much they could do; their gentle attempts to coax him to be more social had failed, for all intents and purposes, and Louis was still a sad hermit, despite how much he denied it.

Tonight, Zayn and Liam were victorious. They had somehow convinced Louis to go to a party. Louis was mostly persuaded by the promise of alcohol, and the desire to get wasted and let loose for once in his life, and his friends knew that, even though they pretended to be unaware of Louis’ ulterior motives. So neither one of them said anything as Louis chugged four cups of vodka mixed with Hawaiian punch, but they did watch over him worriedly, like they were afraid he was going to combust, or break down, or, at any given moment, burst into tears.

Louis wasn’t going to burst into tears. Or break down. Or burst into flames. He was going to continue drinking the vodka concoction that tasted like cough medicine, and he was going to flail his limbs to the music, and he was going to let his mind go quiet.

Louis hadn’t seen Landon in months. After he found out Landon had slept with at least two girls while he and Louis were dating, Louis confronted him and demanded answers. Landon hadn’t had any answers for him, and Louis was so angry and hurt that he just stormed off without saying anything else. That was at the end of fall semester of their junior year, and then Landon went and studied abroad in St. Petersburg for his political science major during the spring semester, and now it was their senior year of college, and they hadn’t talked to each other since.

Landon was back on campus now and Louis was avoiding him as best he could at a college that was small enough for them to run into each other on accident multiple times a day. There were only 1,600 students, four hundred in each grade, which meant that everyone was a familiar face and it was virtually impossible to avoid people. Louis and Landon shared a three-hundred level philosophy class. Louis sat in the front row so he didn’t have to look at him, and glared at the floor whenever Landon raised his hand to share an idiotically pedantic opinion of his. Whenever Landon tried to stop him after class, saying something like  _ I just want to talk, _ Louis bolted.

None of that mattered right now, though, because Louis was drunk, and his eyes were closed, and he was listening to bad music at a crowded college party. His mind, for the most part, was stifled and muffled by the loud music, like covering it in thick cotton.

The chaos of the party continued on around him, strangers’ bodies bumping into him, nothing but sweaty skin and humid air and so much noise. Whoever was on stage playing the electric guitar was bad at it, the student band obviously not famous for good reason, but the soundwaves blaring from the amp boomed through his body, making his heart shiver.

The thing about parties at a place like Paramount College was that they were filled with the same people you saw everyday, in your classes, in the dining hall, at club meetings and sports competitions and campus-wide events. If Louis was to focus on any individual, he would recognize the shy girl from his freshman year English course, or the strange boy from the rugby team, or the group of theater majors who always sat at the table in the far corner for dinner. He would see the president of Paramount Ballroom Dance Club leaning against the wall, watching someone in the crowd. He would see the boy who held the door open for him yesterday on his way inside the post office. He would see his ex boyfriend sucking face with a freshman near the stage.

Louis opened his eyes, and saw his ex boyfriend sucking face with a freshman near the stage.

Landon looked the same as Louis remembered, the image of him plaguing his mind at the most inopportune moments. His features were sharp and imposing, almost intimidating. The girl he was kissing had her hands in his dark hair. It was so like him to go after the freshman girls.

Louis felt gross. He looked away. Liam and Zayn were behind him, and Liam pulled them both into a group hug.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” Louis said into Liam’s armpit, before ducking out from under their arms before they could protest. He pulled himself away and waded through the sea of drunken people, scantily clad and all trying to be cool and sexy. The air smelled heavily of weed, beer, and sweat.

Louis stood in line at the makeshift bar for at least ten minutes and accepted the cup that was eventually handed to him. The party was less intense here, since the music was in the other room and there was a lot more open space.

Louis had a bad feeling crawling up his spine, making his nerves tingle. He turned around, and saw Landon headed right for him.

A mix of ugly, indistinguishable emotions resurfaced. It felt awful; it made his skin crawl. He just wanted the feelings to go away.

In that split second, he made a reckless decision. He spun on his heel, drunk and angry and determined.

He searched the crowd for a suitable candidate.

There was a guy standing with a group of girls beside the fairy lights hanging on the walls. The brilliance of a rainbow bracelet on his bony wrist caught Louis’ eye.

The LGBTQ club on campus had been selling them all week, in order to raise money for a local organization that supported queer kids in the community. Louis had a matching bracelet on his own wrist.

It was as good a sign as any. He marched forward and approached him, the alcohol giving him courage. He knew Landon was still following him, but he hadn’t caught up yet because it was difficult to maneuver through the throngs of people.

Louis threw caution to the wind, stepping up onto his toes because this guy was tall, okay. He cupped his palm against the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his skin, feeling him tense at the unexpected contact with a stranger.

There was a sharp, burning moment of eye contact between them before Louis surged upward and pressed their lips together with force.

The guy was startled so it took a moment for him to kiss back. Louis pushed forward regardless, relieved and spurred on by the fact that he hadn’t been pushed away. It was a bruising kiss, messy and wet and tasting like alcohol. When the guy set his hand on his hip to steady them both, to keep them from toppling over, it made Louis’ brain go fuzzy.

Landon had to be watching. Louis just knew he was. Landon had always been possessive and jealous in their relationship, ordering Louis to stay away from boys who seemed to be a little too friendly to him, demanding Louis to proclaim his loyalty and prove how much he wanted him. He was insecure and possessive and those traits showed themselves in ugly ways, but Louis had gone along with it, because that was what he thought love meant.

Kissing a stranger, now that was something.

Louis had chosen well. It had been pure luck, maybe, or that cute rainbow bracelet on his wrist that led them here. The guy met Louis with equal force, kissing with the same fervor and intensity, or maybe even moreso, which was what was making Louis so dizzy. His hands found home on Louis’ waist, gripping his hips tightly to keep him in place, and the touch felt surprisingly tender. He was confident, if the way he was holding Louis was anything to go by. He was also tall and strong, judging by the muscles Louis felt when he let his fingers slip down his chest. Louis fingered at the fabric of his hideous Hawaiian shirt, grasping for purchase.

They had to pull back for air. Louis was the one who detached their lips, breathing heavily. He surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” Louis breathed, drunk enough to say something so stupid and also to wind both his arms around his neck without feeling too shy. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely,” and then he kissed harder, which made Louis’ knees buckle.  _ Holy shit. _

In terms of reckless behavior, this was one of Louis’ better ideas. If he had the mental capacity for it, he would’ve wondered why he didn’t do this more often; it felt  _ so _ good.

As it was, the world was nothing but the shivering sensation that felt like sparklers fizzling and stardust twinkling under his skin. Warmth seeped into his body at the points of contact between his skin and the stranger’s, spreading through him the way the alcohol had already infiltrated his veins, turning him loose and malleable.

Maybe it was just because he was drunk, lacking the competence to focus on more than one thing at one time, but the world went quiet.

Louis forgot why he was doing this in the first place, until he heard a disgusted scoff behind him.

The sound caused prickles of annoyance to simmer in Louis’ belly, and he twisted around to glare. The guy he’d been kissing used the opportunity to press a kiss at the sensitive skin just below his ear. Just like the hand caressing his waist, the gesture was surprisingly sweet, for all the previous tongue-fucking that had been going on. But Louis couldn’t fully appreciate it, because he was preoccupied with the antagonizing sight of Landon looming in front of him.

Landon looked like such an asshole, with his stupid Vinyard Vines shirt unbuttoned to the top of his rib cage, the sleeves rolled up hastily. Louis used to think it was cute how he dressed preppy even when he was at a trashy college party, but now it just made him think of him as the entitled asshole he really was.

A drunk girl wearing a holographic bikini and festival glitter bumped into Louis, causing him to stumble backwards into Landon. “What do you want?” Louis snapped, still not turning himself completely to face him, which was mostly due to the fact that it felt good to resume pressing up against the stranger’s warm body amidst all the bitterness caused by his ex boyfriend.

Landon’s jaw clenched. Jealousy and anger burned behind his eyes. He gave Louis a onceover and then set his gaze over his head.

“Styles, what the fuck, man?”

Louis’ jaw dropped open. No way was Landon dismissing him right now, in favor of talking to the guy who still had his hands settled on Louis’ waist like they belonged there.  _ Styles _ , whatever his name was, it was probably his last name. He felt ignored and invisible, and it was just like Landon to treat Louis like an object to be obtained rather than a real human being.

Louis jumped in before the stranger still holding him could even respond to Landon’s attack. “Go away. We’re busy.”

“You’re the one copping off with my brother,” Landon snarled. “Which is  _ so _ like you, by the way, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

By brother he meant someone who was also in Phi Kappa Alpha. So the guy Louis had been kissing was in the same fraternity as Landon, why did it matter? He’d never cared for fraternities or Greek life in general, for all the rampant homophobia and toxic masculinity and unfounded pretentious attitudes that made them think they were better than everyone else. Anger flared in Louis’ chest, and he clenched his fists by his sides. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You always get around, don’t you? You’re always so easy for anyone who gives you the smallest bit of attention. It’s sad, honestly.”

“Fuck you.  _ Fuck _ you.”

“Hey hey, woah,” Styles, whatever, interjected, sliding his hand to Louis’ lower back and holding him a little closer. “What the fuck is going on?”

Louis ignored him, directing his words at Landon instead. “You don’t get to say that to me. There’s only one person who ‘got around’ in this relationship and it was you, dickwad.”

“You’re such a pathetic bitch.”

The arms wrapped around Louis tightened protectively as the Styles guy said, “Woah, man, Landon, let up. You’ve said enough.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do.”

Louis was shaking with anger as he furiously blinked back tears. No one around them seemed to notice the altercation, but he still felt exposed and on display. He needed another drink, he needed a cigarette, he needed to never see Landon’s stupid face again.

“Maybe you should leave.”

But Landon stood his ground and refused to move even an inch, stubborn as always and inevitably needing to prove he was the bigger man.

“What happened to loyalty, Styles?  _ Brotherhood _ ? Any of that ring a bell?”

A sense of nausea swelled in Louis and he knew he’d had too much to drink. He was so upset and just tired. All of the fight left him.

“Hey, let’s just go, yeah?” the Styles guy said in his ear, completely dismissing Landon’s provocations. “We can go outside and cool off for a minute.”

Louis didn’t need to cool off; he was shivering, actually, but he knew what he meant by that, so he let himself be led outside. He felt like a child. His drunk mind refused to comprehend what had just happened. The throngs of people made it difficult to navigate, and Louis was glad he had someone to follow. It meant he didn’t have to think. The girls Louis had stolen this guy away from tried to stop him to talk but the Styles guy waved them off. They stepped out onto the back patio, which was significantly less crowded than outside, but still mostly occupied, full of quieter people passing blunts around.

They stopped near the waist-high stone wall that lined the perimeter of the large patio. Louis leaned against the cold stones. It was dark here, the party a distant mirage of flashing lights and silhouetted movement through the open windows. The breeze picked up, and the leaves and branches of the large oak trees shadowed by night rustled and creaked.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He folded his arms over his chest and crossed his ankles. “Sorry you had to witness that.”

“We haven’t met before, right? I’m Harry.”

“Louis.” So  _ Styles _ was a last name.

“What year are you?”

“Senior. You?”

“Same. So you and Landon, huh? How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose in a frivolous effort to quell his already pounding headache. “He wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I thought it was just ‘cause he wasn’t out to everyone yet, but it was because he was cheating on me. So.”

“Wow, that sucks.”

“It sure does. Sorry for, like, attacking you by the way. I’m just really drunk.” He still couldn’t believe he went up to the first attractive boy he saw and kissed him. Drunk Louis made rash decisions, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Sober and hungover Louis was going to hate drunk Louis in the morning.

Harry stared at him, lips pressed together in a ghost of a frown. His expression was hard to read, but maybe Louis was just too intoxicated. He wondered how he’d never seen him around before until now. He was really attractive, even more so up close. His shoulders were broad and his curly hair looked soft, not to mention his lips were very kissable—Louis knew that for a fact.

“Do you need help finding your friends?”

“I think I’ve got it from here. Thanks for sticking up for me, by the way.”

“Landon’s an asshole.”

“What happened to loyalty and brotherhood? I thought you were in the same frat.”

“We are. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.”

“Fair enough. Sounds like there’s some tension, though.”

Harry shrugged dismissively, but his posture was tense. “We disagree on a lot of things.”

“I see.”

The conversation fell to silence. Louis expected him to turn around and leave, but he didn’t. He leant against the wall, where Louis had hopped up onto it to take a seat with his legs dangling, so Harry wasn’t looming over him anymore. Not that Harry loomed.

Louis glanced at the expanse of bare skin of his chest, perfectly smooth and not goosebumped despite the cold nighttime air, from where his ugly Hawaiian shirt was half unbuttoned. It was an appalling outfit but he still looked miles better than Landon’s preppy asshole look.

“What?” he asked, after realizing he was staring and Harry was letting him.

“You were trying to make him jealous tonight?”

“I don’t know what I was trying to do.”

“Do you want to get back together with him?”

“No, definitely not. I guess I just wanted to make him mad. And to prove to myself that I’m allowed to go out and kiss people, you know. I dunno. I wanted revenge, maybe.”

Louis looked back at the party and thought back to the angry, jealous glint in Landon’s eye when he saw Louis with another guy. Louis wasn’t a sadistic person by any means, but he had to admit to himself that it felt pretty sweet to dish back some of the hurt Landon had caused him. A moment of jealousy was nothing in comparison to the weeks and months Louis had wasted in gloom and insecurity. It was horrible, but getting back at him gave Louis some sick sense of satisfaction. He’d felt powerless for so long, and tonight was the first night he felt he had the upper hand.

“So you guys recently broke up?”

“No, it happened months ago. Before he went abroad. We’d been together for two years.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Yeah, a long time to be committed to someone shitty like him,” Louis laughed self-deprecatingly. The words just spilled out of him even though he would never say anything like this if he were in his right mind. The copious amounts of vodka punch had made him loose-lipped and more open than he’d been in a long time.

“No, I mean, he’s always been bringing girls back to his room. Every weekend, for years.”

Louis stiffened. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know?”

“I only caught him with one girl. I put the pieces together, I dunno, he said he only did it with a few people.” He laughed again, and it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “ _ A few. _ What a dick.”

Harry stared at him like he was waiting for a breakdown or an influx of tears. “It was way more than a few,” he said carefully.

Louis expected a new sense of hurt to wash over him, but it was only numbness. The alcohol was doing a good job of nullifying his emotions. “Every weekend, really?”

When they were together, Landon had the tendency to party all weekend, and sometimes even on weeknights, when Louis preferred to only go out once a week. So it wasn’t at all surprising, in some twisted way, that Landon had cheated on him with way more than just two people. There were many times when he’d gone unaccounted for, when Louis thought he was just living his best college life, doing what he wanted, partying with his frat brothers.

Harry didn’t respond. He was still staring, though. His gaze was dark, but maybe it was just that the back patio lacked light. It was so dark out in the small college town, that when Louis looked up at the sky, he could see so many stars.

That was what Louis loved most about attending college in the middle of nowhere. Being able to look up and see the stars.

In any other situation, Louis would’ve shied away under the intense gaze of an intimidatingly attractive boy. For now, feeling numb and bold, he unabashedly gazed back.

“He seemed pretty torn up, seeing you with someone who wasn’t him,” Harry stated in a dull voice.

“He is a jealous person,” Louis agreed. He was trying to figure out if Harry was on the same page as him, or if he was just crazy, and projecting emotions onto people who probably couldn’t care less about the situation.

“Wouldn’t it just suck if you had a boyfriend or something?”

“Oh, totally, he would hate that so much.”

There was a pause, filled only by the unskilled student band, all amped and booming through the speakers. He and Harry were totally on the same page, they had to be, he wouldn’t have said that otherwise. Louis was more than a little shocked.

“Are you..?”

“Am I looking for an opportunity to piss off the one person I dislike the most? Absolutely.”

Louis smirked. He couldn’t help it.

Hence the beginning of a very, very bad idea.

  
  
  
  
  


**II.**

“You kissed  _ Harry Styles _ ?!”

Louis slapped his hand over Liam’s mouth to muffle his words. They were in the library, for god’s sake, it was no place to be saying people’s names so loudly, especially in this context. Louis could sense a few eyes on them from curious students at the surrounding study tables. Liam mumbled something against his palm, but his words were indecipherable.

“Babes, stop that,” Zayn reprimanded.

Louis refused. “We’re going somewhere more private. You both have to be quiet, or else this is going to be very bad.”

They packed up their belongings and shuffled up to the third floor. It wasn’t until they were tucked away in the farthest study room that Louis began talking again, albeit in a whisper.

“Yes, I kissed Harry Styles. Why is that so surprising to you? Who even is he, anyways?”

Liam and Zayn stared at him in shock.

“You kissed him and you don’t even know who he is?”

“I was drunk!” Louis defended. “And he was wearing a rainbow bracelet. And you know I like tall boys.”

“Harry isn’t even that tall.”

Louis crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s taller than me.”

Liam and Zayn shared a look with each other. They were always doing that, silently communicating over his head, and after being friends with them since freshman year, Louis had learned to just ignore it.

“So? Who is he?”

“We’re in the same frat,” Liam said. “If you ever paid attention to anything, you would know that.”

“I knew that already,” Louis grumbled. Well, he hadn’t known until Landon made it painfully obvious that night, but still.

“He was just elected president. Of Phi Kappa Alpha.”

“Oh.” Louis stood up straighter. That was kind of a big deal. He didn’t know Harry was popular or influential enough to be elected president of the fraternity. Although, now that he thought about it, it made sense. Just from what Louis witnessed over the weekend, he was so charismatic, and he walked around with so much confidence. Also, he seemed to know everyone, and the whole time they were at the party, people kept stopping to say hi to him. “So are you friends with him?”

“I mean, yeah, we’re brothers, Louis.”

Louis thought of how much Harry seemed to dislike Landon, even though they were also brothers. Siblinghood in Greek life was so weird. “That doesn’t mean you’re friends. And besides, why am I just hearing about him now?”

“You talk about how much you hate frat guys every day of your life. Whenever you say you love me, you always say, ‘I love you, Liam, even though you’re in a fraternity.’”

Fair enough. Louis shrugged. “He’s cute, though. He’s exactly my type. And I’m single, and you guys keep trying to set me up with people, so why not him?”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “That’s not the point, Louis. He only just came out, a few weeks ago. It was a whole ordeal. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it?”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? A few weeks ago like my definition of ‘a few,’ or Landon’s definition of ‘a few’?”

Liam furrowed his brows. “ _ What _ are you talking about? Three weeks ago, he came out three weeks ago. After he was elected president. He kept it hidden until then because he never would’ve gotten elected if people knew he was gay.”

“Well, that’s shitty. See, this is why I hate fraternities.”

“I know,” Liam sighed.

Louis finally took a seat at the study table, instead of hovering over it awkwardly. The room they were in was one of his favorites, with old wood furniture and gorgeous windows true to the original building in gothic style, overlooking the forest at the edge of campus. He looked out at the sky and thought about how Liam and Zayn had been together ever since freshman year but they were still keeping it a secret. Louis was one of the only people who knew about their relationship. It was a different situation from how he and Landon were secretive, because Liam and Zayn really loved each other and they knew what was best for them. It was just hard, sometimes, being out. Louis knew.

“So he came out,” Louis said, “And it was a big deal, because he was just elected president, and there are apparently a lot of homophobes in Phi Kapp. What does that have to do with me?”

“I dunno, it’s just a bold move to go up and kiss the frat pres who just had the most controversial coming out in campus history,” Zayn explained dryly. Louis cringed.

“All right, yeah, I guess I see that. I didn’t know, though. And he kissed back. With enthusiasm. Obviously. It was a good kiss. Great, actually.”

“We’re happy for you, really,” Liam assured. “Like really, we’re both so proud of you for finally going out and putting yourself out there after what happened last year-” with Landon, he didn’t say.

“Okay, you don’t have to treat me like a child.”

“Sorry-”

Louis waved his hands. “It’s fine. Anyways, my whole point about telling you this is that I found out Harry hates Landon too, so we decided we’re gonna fake a relationship to get back at him, because Landon’s a very jealous and possessive person, you know, so it’ll be great.”

His casual, offhand proposal was met with radio silence. Liam and Zayn gaped at him.

After at least sixty seconds of not speaking, Zayn said, “Let me get this straight. You and Harry agreed to fake date, because you both have a vendetta against your ex?”

“My V is for vendetta,” Louis confirmed. “The only reason I’m telling you this is because I need you guys to back me up if people start questioning the validity of our relationship. You know, because it’s not a real relationship.”

“Lou, are you sure…”

“Harry and I haven’t ironed out the details yet, but we agreed it would be best if we say we got together sometime last semester, so it seems like we’re in a committed relationship and everything.”

Today was Monday, which meant that their initial conversation had been three days ago, on Friday night. They ended up sitting on the wall lining the perimeter of the patio for at least an hour, drunkenly discussing their plan of action. They even exchanged numbers and everything. The next morning, when Louis woke up to the pounding headache of his hangover and the disastrous memories of the previous night, he puked in the bathroom and then texted Harry, asking if they were still on for the plan. Harry replied with a bold  _ absolutely _ , and they agreed to meet up sometime this week when they were both free, and that was that.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Liam said with unease.

“Loamy, look, I love you, even though you’re in a fraternity, and I value your opinion. But I’m doing this whether you like it or not.”

Liam sighed. Zayn rubbed his back. Louis stared at them expectantly, until they both agreed to help.

“Fine,” Zayn said, “Whatever. Why would anyone even ask us about you guys, anyways?”

“I dunno, they probably won’t. You’re the only people who know the truth, though. Harry said he didn’t have anyone he wanted to tell. So he and I will be lying to everyone else, even Niall.” Niall was Louis’ friend and roommate. They weren’t best friends but they still coexisted pretty well and Louis liked Niall a lot, even though he didn’t see him too often, because he was on the golf team and always travelling for tournaments. “I just didn’t want to lie to you guys.”

“We appreciate that.”

“Good.”

Liam pressed his hand to his cheek.

“What?”

“I’m still so in shock that you kissed Harry.”

“We left you for twenty minutes and you went and got yourself into a fake relationship,” Zayn added.

“Yeah, wait, where even were you guys?”

Judging by the faint blush that appeared on Zayn’s cheeks, Louis could guess what they were up to. And Zayn  _ never  _ blushed.

“Oh, god. Nevermind. I don’t want to know, do I?”

Liam grinned, crinkling at the eyes. “You really don’t.”

  
  
  


**III.**

“Hi. I brought you coffee.”

Harry looked up from his phone at the sound of his voice, brows furrowing before he recognized Louis, who was holding out a colorful mug he stole from the dining hall. Well, it wasn’t technically stealing if he planned on returning it eventually. “What? Oh, thank you, that’s so nice of you.”

“Figured you could use some caffeine, since you demanded we meet at this ungodly hour.” He wasn’t sure where these words were coming from; he was usually quiet and shy around people he didn’t know very well. Although, they had already shared a heated makeout session, so maybe they’d bypassed that awkward stage of acquaintanceship.

“I’m a morning person,” Harry sniffed. “And besides, it’s not even that early.”

“It’s seven thirty in the morning,” Louis deadpanned. “On a  _ Wednesday _ . The only reason I even got out of bed was because my hatred for adulterers motivates me like nothing else.”

“Adulterers,” Harry repeated. “Hey, by the way, I meant to ask, what are you majoring in?”

Right, they hadn’t done the typical college student introductions, which involved potential majors and where they were from. He and Harry had just skipped right to a relationship. Fake relationship. Funny.

“English and history double major.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Harry wrapped his hands around the rainbow mug. Louis had selected it just for him, but he hadn’t commented on its rainbow patterns. “You just seem like a giant nerd, is all,” he said innocently, like relaying the week’s weather forecast.

Louis’ jaw dropped open. “That’s so rude. What’s your major, if you’re so cool?”

“Psych and enviro double.”

“Eww, gross.” Louis mimed gagging, pointing his finger at the back of his throat. But he was lying; he found it kind of cool that Harry was doubling in psychology and environmental studies.

“Well, good to know we’re both overachievers.”

“Yeah, fair,” Louis agreed. Double majoring had seemed like a good idea, until senior year hit. Now he practically lived in the library. He still wasn’t entirely convinced he would make it out alive.

“So, anyways, good morning,” Harry said, getting them back on track.

“Yeah. Hi. Bad morning actually because I’m up so early even though I don’t have class until eleven, which is hours away, but you’re right, it is morning.”

Harry had suggested they meet at the coffee shop in the middle of campus, because it wasn’t too crowded in the mornings and it was a nice atmosphere to have a conversation without worrying about being overheard. Most students went there to study and didn’t end up purchasing any of the overpriced drinks or meals, which was why Louis brought Harry a coffee from the dining hall, which was free. So now they were sitting at a cramped booth in the corner, crowded up against the foggy windows. The morning was cold and cloudy but the sun still managed to glow behind the opacity.

“I take my coffee black, by the way.”

“Ew, that’s even more disgusting than your major choice. I’ll have to remember for next time.”

“Aw, you gonna start bringing me coffee every day?”

So maybe he was one of those narcissistic people who thought everyone was obsessed with him. Typical frat boy behavior. “Don’t be such an arrogant asshole about it.”

The corners of his lips quirked up and he took a sip of his coffee, which Louis had fixed with a bit of skim milk and multiple spoonfuls of sugar. He didn’t drink coffee because it was quite frankly disgusting, but he figured the more additives the better. He had just barely refrained from mixing in the weird flavored syrups, like marshmallow or pumpkin spice. He had a feeling Harry would’ve ribbed him about it. Lo and behold, he was probably right.

“I’ll still drink it, though,” he grinned, dimpling. “You look cold, by the way.”

“Good observation. Very perceptive,” Louis responded in his typical sarcastic tone. “You could be psychic, honestly. Drop out of school and open your own practice. You could read tarot cards and tea leaves, and, like, tell people they’re gonna win the lottery and shit.”

“I’m just saying, you’re shivering.”

“What, are you gonna offer me your coat,  _ boyfriend _ ?”

Harry laughed instead of getting mad, which was a relief. Louis was always cranky in the morning, which usually turned into him being more verbally ironic than usual. Hence, all the teasing. He hoped it came off as more playful and friendly than annoying, though Harry seemed to be engaging with it, which was a good sign. It kind of felt like they knew each other better than they actually did. Maybe that's why it was so easy for Louis to tease him. He already knew what his lips tasted like, for god’s sake.

“Yeah, so, we should talk about that. How do you want us to go about this? Or, what are your expectations?”

“Well, um. My main goal is just to piss off Landon, you know. And, like, show him that I’m a real person, and I can make my own decisions.” It was awkward saying it out loud, but he bulldozed through, not looking back. “What do you want from this?”

“I feel pretty indignant on your behalf. I mean, what he did to you was really shitty, and no one deserves that.”

“Right. But it’s also personal for you, isn’t it?”

Harry shrugged. He was wearing a gray hoodie that said Randy’s Donuts on the back, and Louis liked how it looked on his shoulders. That was a weird thought for him to have, wasn’t it? It was early in the morning, he decided to give himself a pass.

“We ran against each other for president, and I won. He said some pretty shitty things. We never really got along. I’m a diplomatic person and I hate to fight, but honestly, I don’t mind helping you out with something that’ll piss him off. He’s a dick; he deserves it.”

“Yeah, I can’t argue with you on that.” Louis tapped his nails on the handle of his mug of Earl Grey, and thought about Liam and Zayn telling him Harry just came out a few weeks ago. With a date that fresh, he wondered how Harry was doing. But he didn’t ask. “So how far are you willing to go with this?”

Harry shrugged. “Up to you. I don’t think it’ll be that hard to convince people. We can just ham it up whenever Landon’s around. How often do you see him in a given week, usually?”

“I have philosophy with him, so I see him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but other than that I avoid him at all costs.”

“Wow, that sucks.”

“Yeah. But I was thinking maybe you could walk me to class or something just so he sees you there. Or you could pick me up after, I dunno. If that’s something you’re okay with, I mean.”

Harry nodded. For some reason he looked unbearably attractive right then, with the silver light filtering in from the windows casting a glow on his cheekbones. “That’s a good idea. You should text me where your class is and what time it starts, we can do that on Monday.”

“Sounds good.”

“So I have an idea for tonight, actually, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“One of my brothers has to watch a movie for his Japanese class, and he’s not doing so well in the class so we’re turning it into an event so he’ll actually watch the movie and we can help him with the essay he has to write,” Harry laughed a little. Louis was surprised at the sweetness of the occasion. “Basically, we’re watching the movie tonight and I was thinking you could come over to the Phi Kapp house tonight and watch with us and just hang out afterwards. Because Landon will be there and obviously see us together.”

That was a really good idea. Still, Louis hesitated. “You’re okay with us hanging out in front of your whole frat?”

“I mean, why not? How else are we gonna do it?”

“I dunno, I guess you’re right. That just seems like a lot of pressure.”

“It’s just watching a movie,” Harry dismissed. Clearly he didn’t know about Louis’ tendency to freeze up in stressful situations. “Then we can go up to my room to make it seem like we’re fucking and you can leave in an hour or whatever looking dissheveled.”

Louis very nearly spat out his tea at the word  _ fucking _ . He managed to swallow it down, only choking a little, which led to a weird coughing fit. When he finally finished, Harry was staring at him with raised brows.

“All right there?”

“Yeah, sorry, just went down the wrong pipe,” he rasped. Jesus.

“Landon is obviously very possessive and he seemed to objectify you, just from what I saw over the weekend, so I feel like if he thinks we’re having sex, he’ll get really pissed.”

“Right, you’re right. That makes sense.” It was validating to know Harry also thought Landon objectified him. It made him feel a little less crazy, which was always a welcome relief.

“Besides, if we’d actually been in a relationship for half a year, we’d be having pretty regular sex.”

“Right,” Louis repeated, even more weakly as he coughed again.

“So you’ll come over?”

“What time?”

“I dunno, seven or eight probably, I’ll text you when to come.”

“Okay,” Louis uneasily agreed, fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie. The thought of walking up to the frat house by himself stressed him out. He hoped Liam would be there.

“So, we should sort out the details of our relationship.”

“Have you done this before? You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I had time to think about it while I was waiting for you to get here,” Harry defended.

“I wasn’t that late,” Louis grumbled.

“Yes, you were. So, details. When exactly did we meet last semester, and where? How?”

Louis was at a loss. “Uhh, I dunno. What’s something that’s believable? We’re in different crowds, we obviously didn’t know each other before last Friday, so it’s kinda hard.”

The self-satisfied grin on Harry’s face suggested Louis wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “Maybe you were trying to reach a book on the top shelf in the library and I helped you. Since you’re so short, you know.”

“No, absolutely not. I hate you, you’re awful. I’m not even short.”

Harry just smirked. “Do you have a better idea?”

“How about Liam introduced us? I told him and Zayn, by the way. So they’ll back us up if people ask.”

“Why would Liam introduce us?”

_ Because I like boys who are just like you, you are just my type, _ Louis thought idly.  _ Tall and handsome and kind of cocky and idiotic. _ He sighed. “I don’t know, okay? I can’t think of everything.”

“You said it yourself, it has to be realistic.”

“So come up with something realistic.”

“What would annoy Landon the most?” Harry inquired.

Louis glanced down at the table and thought about it. Really thought about it. “I don’t know. He always says I’m so uptight, that he hates that about me-”

“Past tense,” Harry corrected. “He said that about you? To you?”

Louis was confused. “What? I bet he still hates how uptight I am, hence the present tense. Hates. And yeah, he said that to me.”

“No, I mean yeah maybe he still thinks that about you, but you’re not together anymore so you don’t have to listen to his bullshit. Past tense. Also, that’s so shitty of him.”

Louis couldn’t resist giving him a weird look. Harry was stranger than originally anticipated. “All right, fine. He always said I was so uptight. Past tense.”

“Good boy,” Harry praised in a dry voice. Louis squinted at him and his weirdness. “Continue.”

“So if he hates that I’m uptight, maybe it would bother him if we met while I was doing something reckless.”

“Such as?”

“Maybe we met at a party.”

“But that’s so boring and unromantic.”

Louis quirked a brow, running his thumb over the handle of his mug. “You want our meeting to be romantic?”

“Obviously,” Harry scoffed, full of surprises, apparently. “Which is why my library idea is so good.”

“You handing a book to me is not romantic.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. We met in the library. Even though it only enforces the idea that I’m uptight.”

“I don’t think you’re uptight. You just walked up to me, a person you did not know, at a party, and kissed me. That’s pretty bold and reckless. Besides, why does it matter if Landon thinks you’re uptight? You shouldn’t still be trying to change yourself to please him. Why does he even think you’re uptight?”

“God, I don’t know, you said it yourself, I’m a nerd. All I do is study.”

Harry’s expression turned dark. “I was joking about that. And Liam told me you used to go out all the time.”

Louis stiffened. “When did you talk to Liam about me?”

Harry’s eyes widened before he waved his hand dismissively. “Nevermind. My point is, we met in a library because you couldn’t reach the book you wanted. There. End of.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe that’s the best idea we can come up with.”

“Have we said I love you yet?”

If Louis had been drinking tea, he definitely would’ve spit it out or choked on it like before. Harry just  _ said  _ things, apparently. “Uh, what?”

“Have we said I love you yet?” Harry repeated. “That’s important, obviously.”

“Uh, I don’t know? I don’t know the timeline on these sorts of things.”

“On relationships? You were in one for two years.”

“Yeah, but it was different with Landon.” Louis preferred not to think about it, as some memories were better left forgotten.

“All right, whatever. Let’s just say yes, we have, but we’re also both private people so we don’t really say it in public.”

“Fine with me.”

“So what are the basic facts I need to know about you? Where are you from, what’s your last name? Do you have any siblings, any dietary restrictions? When’s your birthday?”

Louis stared at him. “You go first.”

“Fine. Sacramento, Styles, one older sister, I’m vegetarian, and my birthday is February first. Your turn.”

“Atlanta, Tomlin-”

“Oh, so that’s where that southern drawl comes from.”

Louis glared at him. “Shut up, I’m speaking. Atlanta, Tomlinson, big family, if you try to get me to eat an avocado I will kill you, Christmas Eve.”

“Wow, there’s so much to unpack, I don’t even know where to start. Um, okay, Christmas Eve baby, that’s cute, although I do sympathize about the presents. Big family doesn’t cut it, you have to explain everyone by age and name and relation to you.”

“You really wanna know?”

“It’s important, isn’t it?”

He supposed it was. Which was how Louis spent the next two hours answering every single one of Harry’s incessant questions.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**IV.**

Later that day, just after the sun had dipped below the horizon, Louis found himself standing in front of the Phi Kappa Alpha house with his finger hovering over the doorbell. The sky was mauve-colored and the October air was cold, breezy and brisk, and it was making him shiver. He hadn’t dressed warm enough, just in Adidas trackies and a hoodie, which had been adequate when the sun was out, but now it felt like the wind was blowing straight through him.

He was nervous too, but he wasn’t a coward. He rang the doorbell.

His skateboard was clutched under his arm, and he picked at the peeling smiley face sticker on the bottom. He’d skated here because as it turned out, his dorm was on the opposite end of campus from the Greek division, which had been a strategic choice on his part. There was a nice, long, satisfying downhill on the way to the Phi Kapp house and Louis had spread his arms out like a bird as he sailed down it, feeling the cold wind in his hair. It would be a bitch to go back up it, though.

He was so focused on peeling off the old smiley sticker that he didn’t even look up when the door finally swung open. That is, until:

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Landon’s voice was deep and annoying, obviously recognizable because Louis had heard it in his ear telling him sappy bullshit lies for two years.

Louis clutched his skateboard tighter to his side and met him with an equally icy stare. “I’m watching a movie.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, like he thought Louis was making it up. “With who?”

“Harry.”

Landon folded his arms over his chest. He looked like he was still dressed for rugby practice. He looked like he needed a shower. He also looked like he’d been sucking on something sour.

“So, you and Styles? Since when?”

Louis stared at him for a moment before realizing Landon had no intention of letting him inside. The entryway was blocked by his broad, defensive stance and it was unlikely Louis could slip past him without bumping into him.

“Are you not gonna let me in?” Louis asked, keeping his tone as bored and unaffected as possible. His hands were possibly shaking from the cold but he refused to look down and confirm his suspicions. He should’ve worn his denim jacket over the hoodie, the soft one lined with sherpa fleece.

“No, I don’t think so.”

A beat of silence passed between them as they glared at each other like they were in a wild west movie, about to have a showdown.

“What do you want from me?”

Whatever Landon was about to say, Louis would never hear it, because he was cut off by a loud voice ringing through the foyer.

“Oh, Louis, you’re here!”

Harry appeared like an angel sent from the heavens and blithely shouldered past Landon. His big hand wrapped around Louis’ wrist and he tugged him inside, almost yanking him away from the doorway. Louis stumbled after him, heart beating fast with relief.

“How was your day? Did you eat dinner already? I made brownies; they’re in the kitchen. You can take your shoes off and set your stuff down there.”

Louis nodded, kicking off his vans and resting his skateboard against the wall, aware of both Harry and Landon watching him, albeit in very different ways.

“Did you eat?” Harry repeated.

Louis stared at him. It looked like he was fresh out of the shower with his hair still damp and beginning to curl slightly. He was wearing a worn t-shirt and a pair of running shorts, despite how cold it was outside. He was all legs, and barefoot too.

There was just a lot of skin on display, okay? Smooth and still tan from summer but covered in a soft dusting of hair. It made it difficult for Louis to focus.

He had originally thought the Harry he’d encountered at the party had been an anomaly, glowing and electric like something otherworldly—a trick of the flashing lights and the countless cups of vodka punch, a magnet, a lighthouse. But Harry was just as striking on a random Wednesday at 7:30 in the foyer of his frat house as he was on Friday night illuminated by loud music and starlight. And he had been just as striking this morning too, huddled up in the corner of a booth at the coffee shop, unruly hair falling into his eyes, swathed in a hoodie and resting his head against the cold glass of the window, sleepy and waiting for Louis to arrive.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he answered after objectively too long. He’d gone to the dining hall with Liam and Zayn and consumed an underwhelming meal of bland fajitas while complaining about said bland fajitas and also warming his hands around a mug of tea.

“Okay, well, there are brownies in the kitchen if you want some.”

Landon was still leaning against the door, now closed, staring at them. His expression was unimpressed.

Louis didn’t know what to do, so he panicked and stepped up onto his toes and—

Kissed Harry.

It was soft and quick; just a peck, but Harry tensed up from the unexpectedness of it and didn’t have any time to correct himself until it was already over. Louis’ heart was racing even as he began to remove himself from the situation so he could book the next flight to Siberia and never have to engage with another human being ever again.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder and kept him in place, though. Harry’s other hand grasped his jaw, much more softly. Louis’ eyes were squeezed shut out, so he didn’t anticipate it when Harry closed the distance and embraced him in a real kiss this time. Louis was too nervous to enjoy it, and he was mostly numb to Harry’s warmth, despite the fact that it seeped from every point of contact and made his skin all tingly.

Harry pulled back a few inches but kept his hand cradling his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. Louis’ eyes blinked open.

“Let’s go watch the movie?”

Louis nodded dumbly.

There were a lot more people in the living room than Louis expected. He came to terms with the fact that he didn’t actually know how many people typically lived in a frat house, but it was more than he thought. The house was large, though, the living room grand and spacious, with windows rising from the floor to the lofted ceilings, overlooking the expansive backyard. The living room was pleasantly lived in but shockingly neat, with a clean coffee table and a stack of blankets folded in the corner and a large L-shaped couch taking up most of the room, positioned in front of the TV, which hung above the fireplace.

He took in the typical frat paraphernalia, mostly things leftover from parties, like the massive alcohol stash in the corner and the various bottles in unlikely places, mostly empty, the beer pong table folded up and resting against the wall, a pink bong on the mantle like an ornament. The walls were empty except the one across from the windows, this one covered in various posters ranging from sports figures to scantily clad models to National Parks images. It was surprisingly artistic rather than haphazard.

A few people sat on the couch, watching a soccer match on someone’s laptop, while others were sprawled out on the floor, laughing about something. There was a table in the corner with three guys studying, textbooks and journals spread out in front of them. Two boys were playing GTA.

They all looked up when Louis and Harry entered the room. Well, except for the two engrossed in the video game, who only spared a glance.

“Hey, guys, we need the TV,” Harry said, ignoring the way everyone stopped what they were doing to stare.

“Yeah, one sec.”

Harry sat down unceremoniously on the couch, unfairly casual. This was his house though, to be fair. “Rickie, wanna set it up?”

“Sure. Who’s this, by the way?”

“Louis,” Harry answered for him. People had stopped staring after the initial entrance, but their eyes flicked right back to him as soon as Harry said his name.

“Do you know Japanese?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Don’t be rude, Rickie,” Harry interjected again. “Louis is my boyfriend.”

“What?” There was a pause full of deafening silence. At least, that’s what it felt like. Louis felt the blood rushing to his face at all the attention. “Oh. Ohhh. Gotcha.” He sent finger guns to Harry, who rolled his eyes, and then turned his focus back to Louis. “Hi, I’m Rickie, nice to meet you, Harry’s  _ boyfriend _ .”

“Likewise,” Louis answered dryly. He wasn’t sure how much Harry’s brothers knew about him, but obviously Harry had told them  _ something _ , he just couldn’t be sure what, because they were excessively quiet and really staring now. He flopped himself down on the couch next to his fake boyfriend, aiming for equally casual.

The weird looks didn’t go away, but Louis took Harry’s cue and ignored them while Rickie set up the TV. Harry debriefed him on what to expect from the film and what he should pay attention to, based on the assignment. Then Rickie pressed play and the score started playing through the elaborate soundsystem, breaking up some of the awkwardness.

Louis was hyper-aware of his physical presence and how awkward he looked, with his back pressed stiffly against the cushions in a failed effort to look like he wasn’t thinking about how to sit like a normal person. The void of space between him and Harry was also concerning. If they had really been boyfriends for the past six months, wouldn’t they prefer to sit closer together?

Louis was glad for the distraction of the film, although he had no idea what was going on. He focused on the cinematography, the composition and the score, because the dialogue was lost to him. Harry seemed to be following along easily, and Louis had to admit he was impressed.

Near the end of the film, there was a section of quick dialogue that neither Harry nor Rickie could decipher, so they replayed it at least five times to figure it out. Harry and Rickie were in the middle of a debate about the significance of the scene when the sharp noise of a door slamming down the hall cut into their words. Louis flinched at the sound, and then flinched again when he saw who had just walked into the room. Landon passed in front of the TV to join the guys at the table, and he glared at Louis the whole way.

Louis froze. Harry must have noticed the interaction, because he moved his arm to rest it against the back of the couch. Unless it was a coincidence. His fingers brushed against Louis’ shoulder and Louis couldn’t determine if it was accidental or not, but most of his concentration was focused on keeping his breathing even anyway.

It was a bold move on Harry’s part, possessive and strangely exposing. Harry’s hand was millimeters away from Louis’ shoulder. Louis could feel the heat from his arm beside the back of his neck. He pretended not to notice.

“Wanna go up to my room later?” Harry asked, not even trying to keep his voice down.

“Sure,” Louis breathed.

Harry reached for the strings of Louis’ hoodie, fiddling with them. “You can spend the night…”

“All right.”

“Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“Guys, can we please focus on the movie,” Rickie interrupted. “We still don’t know what they’re saying in this scene, and you guys are acting like you’re the only two people in the room. You’re not, for the record.”

Harry smirked and finished tying the strings in a bow before letting them fall and patting his chest.

They had to play the scene three more times before they finally got it. Then there were only ten minutes left of the film, and after that, Harry coached Rickie through the questions, guiding him to the correct answers rather than telling him what to write. Louis contributed when he could, surprised when Harry actually asked him for his opinion a few times and listened intently to what he had to say.

Rickie was busy typing up the last response when Landon started talking shit from the kitchen. With the film over, the living room was quiet, allowing them to hear most of what was said in the around the house. The others were trying to keep their voices down to a low mumble but Landon didn’t even have the decency to do that.

Louis couldn’t catch all of what he was saying, but he distinctly heard something along the lines of, “What the fuck, apparently we’re having twinks at the house now.” Louis rolled his eyes at the raucous laughter that resulted, and tapped his fingers against his thigh.

“Shut up, Landon,” a distinct voice reprimanded from the kitchen, _the voice of Liam!_ Louis thought cheerfully. “We respect each other in this fraternity. And besides, you were the one who dated that ‘twink’ for two years.” _Shut down._

Liam: 1, Landon: 0. Louis loved Liam, he would have to tell him that when he saw him. It was satisfying to hear the resulting  _ oooh _ ’s from the other guys in the kitchen.

Rickie’s fingers had since stopped typing on his laptop. Louis knew everyone had heard the interaction in the kitchen.

Rickie turned to Harry and poked him in the shoulder. “What’s going on between you and Lan?”

“He doesn’t like that Louis and I are together.”

“Why?”

Harry stayed quiet. Louis realized it was to give him the opportunity to decide how much to share. Another surprisingly thoughtful gesture.

“Landon and I used to be together,” Louis explained awkwardly, leaving it at that.

“Oh. So he’s jealous.”

“Yeah,” Louis winced.

“Are you almost finished?” Harry asked Rickie.

“I just have to answer one more question, then you guys can go wreak havoc. But like, Harry, I know you live on the third floor and whatever, but sound travels. The walls are thin.”

“Fuck off,” Harry laughed. “You’re in luck, ‘cause this one loves to scream.”

Louis’ jaw dropped open and he knocked him in the shoulder in retaliation. “Why would you say that?”

“Am I wrong?”

He  _ was  _ wrong, actually, but Harry had no way of knowing the truth. Louis had a lot of responses to that, but none of them kept up the whole “boyfriends” facade, so he just spluttered in search of something that made sense, given the context. He found nothing.

Harry laughed again, saying, “It’s okay, you know I like it,” like they were proper boyfriends who knew each other’s likes and dislikes. Which was not the case.

“Fuck you.”

“Thought we agreed we’d do that later-”

Louis threw his hands in the air. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“God, get a room,” Rickie groaned, “But help me finish this first.”

Harry blew a kiss at Louis and then turned back to the assignment to help Rickie, and Louis just had to sit there and think about how this is what it would be like if he and Harry were in a relationship.

Finally, they finished the assignment and Rickie shut his laptop with a flourish, smacking a big kiss on the top of Harry’s head and thanking him with grandiose. “You too, Louis, even though you literally do not know a single word in Japanese.”

“Hey, I know that one we were talking about earlier,” Louis pointed out. Harry and Rickie had spent at least ten minutes discussing the part in the movie where the main character was peeling sweet potatoes.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“Satsumaimo,” Louis tried, cringing when it came out sounding weird.

Rickie burst out laughing. Harry had a wonky smile on his face like he was trying, and failing, to hide his amusement.

“Satsumaimo,” he gently corrected, with the correct pronunciation.

“Satsumaimo,” Louis repeated, trying to say it right, which sent Rickie off again.

“Satsumaimo.”

“Satsumaimo.”

Harry grinned. “There, you’ve got it.”

“Yay, now you know how to say ‘sweet potato,’” Rickie deadpanned, “How useful in everyday life.”

Harry stood up and grabbed Louis’ hand. “Oh, shove off. Now, do you need anything else from us or are we free to go?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks Haz. Remember, thin walls, sound carries, all that.”

Luckily, Harry didn’t respond to that comment, and just tugged Louis out of the room. They passed through the kitchen, where a group of Harry’s brothers stood at the island, eating Harry’s brownies. Liam bumped fists with him in a very bro-like way and offered him a beer, which he declined, because it was a Wednesday and he was planning on going up to Harry’s room, sneaking out the window, and going home to pass out in bed. Harry watched the interaction with amusement and then finally they were walking upstairs to Harry’s room on the third floor.

The third floor, now that was problematic. How was he going to sneak out the window?

Harry was quiet as he led Louis inside his room. The air was awkward, heavy. They really didn’t know each other very well at all. Louis had always found it oddly intimate to enter another person’s bedroom for the first time.

“Well, that went well? I think?”

“Yeah, it did,” Louis agreed, taking in the room. Meanwhile, Harry sprawled out on his unmade bed, pulling out his phone. He looked at ease, which made sense; this was his space.

“Welcome to my room.”

“Did you decorate?”

“Yeah, who else?”

Louis shrugged, looking around. He wasn’t bold enough to wander, but he did absorb what he could: the walls artfully decorated with posters, the string of lights framing the bed, the stack of vinyls and the record player on the desk. A stack of clean clothes accumulated on the chair in the corner, while an athletic bag and a mess of rugby gear resided near the door. The desk was full of journals, psychology textbooks, and a thick copy of the DSM-5. To Louis’ great surprise and pleasure, there was an entire bookshelf full of books beside the desk.

He stepped closer, dragging his fingers over the spines. The shelves were carefully organized, with the more classic literature on the bottom, Wilde and Fitzgerald and all three Bronte sisters. A well-worn, well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice sat apart from the rest.

The other shelves were all commercial fiction, more contemporary books with gaudy covers. Louis’ eyes widened at the amount of romance novels.

He wasn’t sure what he expected from the attractive, athletic, boyish president of Phi Kappa Alpha, but this wasn’t it.

He looked back at Harry, who was still sprawled out in bed, arms behind his head, eyes resting closed.

“Nice collection,” he remarked. The books he recognized were the ones about queer romances, but it wasn’t an exhaustive assemblage by any means. There were already a few recommendations Louis could’ve made off the top of his head to add to the collection.

He looked back at Harry again and saw him staring up at the ceiling. His breathing was stilted, shallower than usual, kind of uncomfortable.

Louis held up a book with a familiar cover. “This is a good one,” he commented, casually waving it through the air, noticing how specific pages were dog-eared. Another well-loved copy, then.

Harry froze. “You’ve read that one?”

“I’ve read a lot of these. The queer ones, I mean, but I think this one’s my favorite out of the ones you have.”

“Oh.” Harry didn’t sit up or look at him.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He rocked back on his heels. He wondered what the room looked like when only the fairy lights by the bed were turned on. “So what’s the plan? Gonna tie your bedsheets together so you can lower me out the window like Rapunzel?”

At that, Harry sat up, brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“I mean, it’s three stories, but I think we can do it. I’m not too afraid of heights.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how I’m gonna sneak out. So Landon will think I’m spending the night? Obviously I can’t just walk out the front door.”

“Oh. I thought you were gonna stay.”

“The whole night?” Louis balked.

“No—I mean, like, an hour or two, so it seems like we’re hooking up. Then when you leave, you might run into Landon.”

“Oh,” Louis thought about it. Slipping out in an hour or two looking a bit disheveled was a much easier plan than scaling the tree outside to escape unnoticed. “So you’re okay if I stay for a bit?”

“If you want to.”

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I’ll do that. Good idea. Do you think they’ll think we’re banging?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Rickie clearly does. Sorry about him, by the way.”

Louis waved him off. As much as he didn’t like the attention called to his sex life, he enjoyed Rickie’s good-natured humor. “What about Landon? He wasn’t in the room for that conversation.”

“He was in the kitchen when we were heading up here, though.”

“Is that enough?”

“I dunno, maybe. We should…”

“What?”

“We should make a sex playlist, and, like, play it. Loudly.”

“Oh my god,” Louis laughed. “That’s brilliant. Should we use your Spotify or mine?”

So they spent the next twenty minutes creating an intricately crafted playlist on Spotify, comprised of sexy songs for getting it on. Harry had an interesting music taste and Louis enjoyed trying to figure it out as they compared songs they liked and advocated for their favorites to be added to the list. Of course, there were also quite a few disagreements.

“No, absolutely not.”

“Shut up, this is a classic,” Harry argued, waving his hands. Louis had already learned that Harry was just as headstrong as he was; it seemed they shared that personality trait.

“No, nope, no. Hypothetically if we were having sex and you tried to play this song I would get up and leave.”

Harry squinted, thumb hovering over the add-song button. “I highly doubt that.”

Louis glared at him. “Oh, I would. Especially if I told you not to add it and you did it anyways.”

“I think you’d be otherwise occupied to worry about the song that was playing. Hypothetically.”

Louis scoffed. “Well you’re clearly confident in your abilities. You think you’re that good in bed?”

He already knew Harry was a good kisser, and if he fucked like he kissed… Well, Louis would be careful not to think about that, for the sake of his own sanity. He wasn’t a fan of arrogant boys, but as much as he hated it, he had to admit the confidence was attractive.

Harry stared at him for a moment, made eye contact, and then he added the song.

Louis lunged for the phone. “You bastard.”

They wrestled for it for at least sixty seconds. It was all limbs flailing and slipping out of each other’s grip, more laughter than anything.

Their squabble finally ended when Louis “accidentally” kneed Harry in the crotch.

“Fuck, shit, you heathen,  _ fine _ ,” he gasped, breathless with laughter and pain. He cupped himself with one hand and tossed the phone over to Louis with the other. “I can’t believe you would do that to your  _ boyfriend _ .”

“I can’t believe my boyfriend would try to add that song to our sex playlist.” Louis shook his head. “He really is awful.”

“You’re a heathen,” Harry repeated.

Louis just smirked to himself, basking in his victory. From there, they added a few more songs, while Louis ignored Harry’s pout at not adding the one he really wanted. Then they connected Harry’s phone to the bluetooth speakers in the room and started the playlist from the beginning.

“Where’s Landon’s room?” Louis wondered.

“Down the hall. Seniors in leadership positions are the only ones on the top floor. My room is the biggest, though. Because I’m president.”

“Do you want to be obnoxious?”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, no-” Louis chuckled. “Not that. I mean, do you want to do something really obnoxious?”

Harry eyed him warily, folding his arms over his stomach. “That depends…”

It was as good as a yes. Louis, who was still energized with adrenaline and bad ideas, hopped up onto the bed and started jumping up and down rhythmically, so it squeaked and hit the wall when he jumped really hard.

He worked up a rhythm and then opened his mouth and belted out, in the most exaggerated moan he could manage, “Ohh,  _ Harry… _ ”

Harry’s jaw dropped to the floor. He looked horrified.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Making it seem like we’re actually fucking,” Louis replied, jumping to the other side of the bed. He moaned again, louder this time to hide a laugh, when he tried grabbing Harry’s arms and pulling him up to the bed. “C’mon, join me.”

“Oh my god,” Harry groaned, exasperated.

It was a real reaction to Louis’ antics, not an intentional moan, but Louis smiled wider and encouraged more. “Yeah, just like that, that was so good. Do that again.”

“What, no, that wasn’t-” Harry sighed. “You’ve literally lost your mind.”

“Stop being such a stick in the mud. Come on.”

Louis managed to coax Harry onto the bed this time. He stood there with his arms crossed while Louis jumped around him and moaned at unequal intervals, trying to hide his laughter. The music got louder, so Louis moaned louder. It wasn’t until he started banging his hand against the wall and throwing in some screams of pleasure that he finally got Harry to crack a smile.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta contribute,” Louis teased. Damn it all to hell if he didn’t have fun with this; revenge was supposed to be sweet. “Otherwise it’s like I’m doing all the work.”

Harry rolled his eyes and smacked his hand against the headboard, a surprisingly accurate sound. Louis nodded in encouragement.

Then Harry tipped his head back and groaned, low and deep and raspy. The sound rang through the air and vibrated under Louis’ skin.  _ Holy shit.  _ He had a beautiful voice, kind of morbid when he spoke, but something else entirely when he  _ moaned  _ like that. Louis jumped harder to distract himself.

“Oh, Harry… Ohh, Harry! Don’t stop!” he screamed, muffling the sound into his palm as if he were biting down on something, or burying his face in Harry’s shoulder. Mostly, it was just to hide the crazy grin on his face.

“Fuck, ohh, fuck yes…”

They both laughed silently, locking gazes as Louis wiped tears from his eyes. They kept jumping and moaning and trying to keep their laughter quieter than the music blaring over the speakers. A few songs past but Louis was determined to drag this out—he was  _ not _ about to fake orgasm after only a few minutes. Harry seemed to register the problem at the same time, realizing that they would have to keep this up for a while, lest they wanted people to think neither of them had any stamina.

“Oh my god, okay, we have to wait at least three more songs.”

Harry threw his head back in a real groan this time but kept jumping. Their cries and moans got more ridiculous by the minute, trying to one-up each other until they were in stitches from laughing so hard. It was so stupid, but Louis couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this hard.

Finally, enough time had passed for them to respectably finish.

“Same time?” Louis mouthed, and Harry nodded. They grinned at each other and went for it. Louis did his best impression of someone overcome with pleasure, laying it on thick. He’d never been this loud in his life, and his was surprised by his own boldness. Harry did the same. Their voices actually sounded really hot together, but Louis decided not to think about that. He also decided not to think about the way Harry looked with his head tipped back, the column of his throat on display, as he imitated reaching that moment of ecstasy. Pink lips parted, eyes fluttered closed…

Louis figured that was enough of that, and flopped back onto the bed. Harry followed him down with one final squeak of the springs. They lied next to each other, chests heaving with the exertion of their activities, smiling up at the ceiling.

“What is wrong with us,” Louis giggled, turning on his side to face Harry.

“What can I say?” Harry shrugged. “We’re both  _ great _ in bed.”

Louis covered his face with his hands and grinned into his palms. “Very enthusiastic,” he added in agreement. “Very loud.”

They laughed again, still breathless, and listened to the playlist still filtering through the speakers. Harry reached over to the nightstand, where his phone was discarded, and turned the volume down a little bit, so it was more manageable. He kept a respectful amount of space between them when he rolled back over to his previous position on the bed. Yet it was still the same standard mattress everyone else at Paramount had, twin-sized and not offering much room for one person, let alone two. Louis had flashbacks to sharing the same sized bed with Landon, how Landon always sprawled out, taking up most of the space, and left Louis to curl up on the edge by his side. Louis closed his eyes and afforded himself a long inhale through the nose and a drawn-out exhale out the mouth.

“We can wait a bit and then go again. If you’re up for it.”

“Why do I feel like we actually had sex?” Harry huffed in a laugh, because everything they were saying was through a heap of giggles, they were both in silly moods and they just couldn’t stop.

Louis rolled his eyes and sat up, smoothing out his hair.

“No, leave it.”

“What?”

“Your hair. Come here, make it messy again,” Harry tugged him back with a grip on the sleeve of his hoodie. “It’ll look more authentic when you do the walk of shame.”

“I don’t think it counts as a walk of shame if you’re my fake long-term boyfriend and it’s not a one-night stand.”

“Eh, fine, what do you want me to call it?”

“I dunno, something better than that. It’s like, a walk of victory.”

Harry smiled, and reached out to muss up Louis’ hair with both hands. It seemed the touch-barrier was well and truly broken between them now. “Fair enough.”

Now that they were both sitting up, and the chaos of the previous moment and their exhaustion was over, they settled down. Louis looked over at Harry and took in his rosy cheeks and wavy hair, which was somewhat frizzy from being partially dry after his shower.

“So, what do we do while we wait?”

The resulting shrug was expected. Harry leant back on his hands and nodded towards his wardrobe. “You can find something of mine to wear, if you want. So it looks like you got undressed and then dressed again.”

“Oh.” Louis sat up straighter, and then hopped off the bed. “That’s smart. You’re just full of bright ideas today, aren’t you?”

He wandered over to the wardrobe, intrigued by what he might find. Harry was a student athlete and also in a fraternity, so surely he must wear solely athletic clothes and, like, cargo pants or something, right? Louis wasn’t sure of the fashion trends of such people, which mostly included Under Armour sweatshirts and Nike trackies. He always prided himself on dressing fairly well, yet still casual, in a way that expressed his personality, in black skinny jeans and thrifted sweaters or vintage band shirts.

Louis pulled the doors of the wardrobe open as opposed to rifling through the drawers on the bottom. The athletic clothes were there, amidst a heavy collection of Hawaiian shirts, much like the one Harry had been wearing the night at the party. Louis originally thought he only wore that because the party theme was spring break, but he realized he was wrong. The short-sleeved button-ups, brightly patterned and hideous as they were, must’ve been more of a staple in Harry’s everyday wear than anything. Louis plucked at the sleeve of a sky blue one with pale pink Japanese cherry blossoms printed on it, and turned to raise an eyebrow at Harry.

“Do you actually wear these?”

“Is that an insult?”

Louis shrugged. “I’m not judging.”

“It sounds like you are,” Harry huffed with a smile. “You really don’t know me at all, do you.”

“No, I don’t. Which is funny. Usually everyone knows everyone here.” They’d been attending the same university for four years, and the size of their class was about four-hundred people. It was a surprise they hadn’t run into each other before, although louis supposed their differing interests played a role in keeping them apart.

“Guess we run in different circles, then.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Louis did not make a habit of hanging around frat boys or rugby players or both. Landon had been the only exception, and clearly that didn’t end well. And now Harry, if he counted. The situation was kind of weird.

Louis turned back to the wardrobe. He flipped through a few more Hawaiian shirts, trying to find something suitable. He got all the way to the end, fingers landing on strange fabrics that felt silky and sheer. He examined a lavender blouse with ruffles for a moment before deciding he  _ really  _ didn’t know who Harry was at all. Or that Harry wasn’t who he expected him to be.

“Do you have something with your name on it or something? Something that will be really obvious. Like maybe an extra jersey from rugby, I dunno.”

“Check the bottom drawer,” Harry suggested, lounging back in bed. “Rugby jerseys don’t have names on them, though. But I think it’ll be pretty obvious if you’re wearing a jersey, since you don’t play.”

“Right.” Louis lifted a burgundy and navy blue striped jersey out from the drawer. It was pleasantly soft and well-worn, the collar giving rather than stiff. “Is this okay? I’m not taking your only jersey, am I?”

“No, that’s perfect. I don’t wear that one that often.”

“Okay, good.”

“Do you want pants too? I feel like you wouldn’t want to put your jeans back on if we’d just fucked.”

“Eh, why not,” Louis agreed, ignoring the shiver that went through him at that specific word. Everything sounded sexier in Harry’s deep drawl and it wasn’t fair; he wasn’t even trying. Louis rifled around and found a nice pair of sweatpants, holding them up for his fake boyfriend’s approval.

“Fine, but you have to give them back.”

“No, I was totally just planning on stealing your clothes for good,” he deadpanned, checking the tag on the sweatpants and squinting at the size. He wasn’t too surprised to find they were the same size he wore, because even though Harry was tall, he had a thin waist. Louis knew that fact from dragging his hands all over him when the kissed. He was always going back to that, the kiss. “I’m changing in the bathroom,” he declared, before marching over to the en suite.

What kind of college student had an en suite? Frat presidents, apparently. The bathroom was clean rather than gross, thank god. Everything was neat and orderly. Louis eyed the lineup of bath products along the countertop and the back edge of the bathtub, because yes, this en suite included a nice, new-looking bathtub. Harry was a lucky bastard. Harry was apparently also a person obsessed with body wash. It was like Bath and Body Works in here.

The sweatpants fit fairly well, but he rolled the ankles so they wouldn’t drag on the floor. The jersey was a different story, as it draped over his shoulders loosely, although that would make it more obvious that it didn’t belong to him. Louis had always thought rugby jerseys were ugly, but he had to admit he liked how this one looked on him, even as the sleeves covered his hands.

He bawled up his clothes and exited the room, seeing that Harry was still lounging on top of the comforter and had since pulled out his phone.

“Do you work at Bath and Body Works?”

“Huh?”

Louis pointed at the bathroom. “There are a lot of bath products in there.”

Harry frowned. “I like smelling nice. You should try it sometime.”

“Hey, rude. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I was just curious.”

“Whatever.”

Louis held out his arms. “Do you think he’ll notice?”

Harry’s eyes scanned him up and down, his expression flickering yet still unreadable. His eyes seemed to be caught on the jersey after the initial onceover. Louis fiddled with the oversized sleeve. “Oh, definitely. As long as you walk past him, though, he might not even be in the room on your way out.” Harry went back to staring at his phone.

“That’s true.”

Louis wasn’t sure what to do, so he wandered over to the record player and peered at the box of vinyls. He already knew a fair amount about Harry’s music taste just from the sex playlist alone, but he always enjoyed seeing the albums that were important enough to people to want to materialize in actual records. After a tentative moment of not getting yelled at by Harry for breathing too close to the collection, he began to finger through them, taking in the cover art and the worn edges. Most of them looked as if they’d been thrifted, most of the sleeves worn and rough at the edges, although some were in mint condition.

“Thanks for doing this, by the way.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Louis shook his head; it wasn’t an  _ of course _ type of thing. People didn’t just offhandedly agree to an insane idea like pretending to be in a long-term relationship for the sake of—for the sake of what? Louis didn’t even know. Retribution, he supposed. Revenge. When he kissed Harry at the party, it had been a blind act of overwhelming emotion, the desire to make Landon feel at least a fraction of the hurt Louis had feeling for months. At least, that’s why Louis thought he did it. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Am I a bad person?” Louis wondered to the wall of posters and photographs artfully aligned.

“No,” Harry said, like it was simple.

Louis couldn’t just let it go. “Why not, though? I’m doing a bad thing. I’m lying to people and I dragged you into it.”

He spared a glance back at Harry to watch him set his phone face down and prop his head up on his hand. “Do you want to get back together with Landon?”

“I- no. I don’t know.”

Harry continued staring at him. His gaze could be intense sometimes. “Well, either way, it doesn’t matter. If there’s a bad person in this equation, it’s Landon. Not you. He’s the one who fucked you over.”

Louis went back to fingering at the vinyls, although he couldn’t focus on reading their titles or appreciating the cover art anymore. There could be more than one bad person in the equation, that was what Harry wasn’t acknowledging. Louis bit his lip and didn’t point it out.

“Do you want to go again?”

Jarred out of his reverie, Louis turned to Harry who was sitting upright again and smirking at him. Louis shrugged and crossed the room to clamber onto the bed. Harry turned the music back up and they spent the next twenty minutes jumping and moaning even more exaggeratedly than before. If there was one thing to take Louis’ mind off his own inner turmoil, it was laughter to the point of tears.

  
  
  
  
  


**V.**

“Do you want me to walk you out?”

“I think I’ll be okay. You can pretend to be in a sex-induced coma. Thanks again, by the way. For doing this.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Stop thanking me. I told you I’m doing this because I want to piss off Landon too.” He reached out and messed up Louis’ hair with both hands before patting and pinching at his cheeks too to bring color to them. “Lick your lips,” he ordered. “Bite them.”

Louis narrowed his eyes but did as he was told, watching Harry watch his mouth. “Is that good?”

“I dunno, it still doesn’t-” Harry cut himself off. Louis just stared at him, especially when Harry fit his palm along the curve of his jaw. He was completely unprepared when Harry gave him a calculating onceover and then dipped in to kiss him—hard.

“Ow, fuck, that actually hurt,” Louis said as soon as Harry let him go. He was more surprised than anything and very carefully avoiding the heady pleasure in his belly, somersaults and the butterflies and the way it felt like someone had swirled his insides with a fork. His lips felt swollen and bitten, red from the aggressive, unexpected kiss.

Harry didn’t even apologize for it. “There, that’s better.”

“If you say so.” Louis was skeptical. And dizzy. And trying not to do something stupid like fall over or let his knees buckle. Forget the touch barrier—they had already broken the kiss barrier. That was the second time tonight, although the first time was more chaste than anything.

Apparently they weren’t going to mention what literally just happened. He was fine with that. He was a man of stifling his emotions, anyway. Although, the swirling in his belly was still there, insistent, especially with the way all of Harry’s attention was focused on him. His heart was beating faster than usual, fluttering in his chest, as if to say,  _ that felt good. Can we do that again? _

_ No, heart, we cannot, _ Louis thought obstinately. If not a bit deliriously.

“Okay, time to go,” Louis declared, grabbing his discarded clothes and wadding them into a ball. He checked around the room for the rest of his belongings to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind. He patted Harry on the chest as he made for the door. “See you sometime, I dunno.”

“Don’t get lost.”

“I’ll try not to.”

He closed the door behind him and wandered down the hall, trying to feel confident rather than awkward. He wasn’t sure how to face anyone downstairs, and this was actually kind of really embarrassing now that he thought about it, because everyone thought they knew what’d he just been up to, and what they thought they knew made him blush. Louis was all for sexual liberation, but he was still shy, and he liked to keep personal matters private. Sleeping with his hypothetical boyfriend was something he hypothetically preferred to keep private.

He wandered down the three flights of stairs without running into anyone, which was nice. There were a lot of voices coming from the living room, though, and he would have to pass through there to get to the front door. He sighed, and ironed his face to an aloof expression before entering.

The conversations quieted down but no one said anything directly to him. Likewise, Louis made no move to interact. He traversed the room with his head up, gaze fixed on his destination.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the unmistakable figure of Landon lounging on the couch, tense and moody as always, and Louis suppressed his smirk until he stepped outside and the front door slammed shut behind him.

He laughed to himself as he hopped on his skateboard, which he’d grabbed on his way out after somewhat awkwardly donning his shoes. He kicked off and then he was sailing through the night. Not even the freezing wind nor the steep uphill could dull his mood as he made his way home.

Louis took a deep breath and inhaled the earthy smell of autumn leaves, dewy grass, and Harry’s cologne clinging to the shirt. He released it all on an exhale, and the world swirled around him in blurred madness. The electric hum of the night vibrated under his skin as he ricocheted through the dark.

  
  
  
  
  


**VI.**

Shitty days sucked because all it took was one stupid event to ruin his outlook and turn neutral details into storm clouds. On any normal day, he could overlook spilling his tea all over his modernism paper or tripping over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbling in front of a group of cute guys on the soccer team, but when he was already having a bad day, these minor inconveniences piled up and combined many multiple molehills into one looming mountain.

Louis was having a shitty day. It began with waking up late, to pouring rain and gloomy skies no less. It was 8:05 and his Mesoamerican archaeology class started at 8:10 and there was no way he was going to make it across campus in five minutes. Morning classes were hell. The class was held in a cottage near the woods on Paramount’s perimeters and Louis scrambled out of bed and into a pair of rainboots to slosh through the puddles all the way there, since he didn’t fancy skateboarding in conditions that could very well kill him. He usually enjoyed the trek, as much as he could at eight o’clock in the morning, which was tragic considering how much he despised it today.

He got to class ten minutes after it started. His professor, a recent grad who’d just gotten her PhD, glared at him as he shrugged off his raincoat to reveal his pajamas. He was a mess. It was sad. She refused to have any pity on him. Usually he loved archaeology, but today he didn’t have any coffee to get him through the two hours of lecture, and not having coffee sucked. He listened to the rain pattering on the windows and zoned out somewhere between the time when she was talking about lithic analysis of projectile points and domestication of turkeys and muscovy ducks. So when she called on him, he was too out of it to even bullshit an answer and instead ended up admitting, “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” To which she frowned at him and called on someone else, her disappointment clear.

After class, she pulled him aside and asked what was wrong. He cringed and explained the situation, and she just frowned harder and said, “Do better next time.”

He had a bit of time before his next class, so he booked it to the library as the wind picked up and blew the rain right into his face. His hood wouldn’t stay up, even when he pulled the strings taught, and he resigned himself to getting soaked. He was almost to the library when he tripped and flailed horribly in front of half the soccer team just leaving the library. As soon as they were gone and Louis was standing upright again, he covered his face in his hands and groaned. Rain trickled down the back of his coat, wetting his neck and spine.

Once he got settled in the library, he realized he had forgotten his textbook in his dorm room, and had to hike all the way back to retrieve it, which meant he didn’t have enough time to finish the assignment before class. Then, at lunch, the dining hall served all of his least favorite foods and he had to resort to making a sad rice bowl with spinach and mozzarella cheese. Liam and Zayn sympathized with him as he stabbed soggy pieces of spinach with his fork. He appreciated how the dining hall workers washed the spinach, but hated when it was dripping wet. He moved to rest his elbow on the table, and he bumped into his mug of tea, which promptly spilled all over the copy of his English essay he’d just printed.

“Fuck this,” he sighed, grabbing a fistfull of napkins to sop it all up. “I hate Mondays. I hate my life.”

“Don’t say that,” Liam reprimanded gently, also pushing napkins to soak up the spill, protecting Zayn from its encroachment. “You have some free time later, right? The three of us should do something fun together. Or four, if Niall is free.”

“I’m going to watch rugby practice today,” Louis reminded. “To support my boyfriend.”

Zayn grimaced at him. Liam looked vaguely worried. “In the pouring rain? Are you sure about that?” He was such a dad.

“It matches my mood.”

Zayn and Liam both sighed. “Louis…”

“You guys can come if you want.” He knew they wouldn’t. No one in their right mind would sit outside in the freezing rain just to watch rugby practice. It wasn’t even a game, but Louis wanted an excuse to sulk. Also, he figured if he and Harry were really going for this, it would be best to actually commit to it. Good boyfriends were supportive, weren’t they? Louis would show up to Harry’s practice and sit on the sidelines in the rain and support his boyfriend. And probably feel awkward about it, but alas.

Louis peeled his sopping essay from the table. It tore in half and flopped back to the table as soon as he lifted it. He sighed. Today was the day of sighing. Today was also the day of things getting wet, and not in a fun way.

“I’m going back to the library to print this, again, before I’m late to class—again. See you guys later.” Liam patted his back and Zayn gave him a warm hug that smelled like cigarette smoke and ink from his drawing class before letting him go.

At the library, the printer showed an error message that was indistinguishable. All it said was ERROR: 387JA23UEC2814E. The random string of letters and numbers gave him a stress headache. Louis very nearly started crying after he replaced all of the paper and it still wouldn’t work. He pressed buttons randomly in the hopes that the universe would have pity on him. Then the printer started beeping loudly, almost in protest, so he gave up and slumped forward, closing his eyes. The beeping continued. People in the library were staring at him because he was disturbing the quiet.

“Wow, you look rough.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut tighter and refused to look up at the sound of Landon’s voice. He considered banging his head against the printer. Maybe that would get it to work. Or maybe he would just pass out and not have to think about this shitty day anymore.

“New boyfriend not treating you well?”

Where was that question even coming from, and what did Harry have to do with the fact that Louis was slumped over the printer in defeat? He sighed. “I’m not in the mood, Landon.”

“I’ll take that as a no, then.”

Louis tilted his head towards him and glared. He was  _ so _ over this day. “Clearly you know nothing. Harry treats me great. Also, he’s not new. We’ve been dating for months,” he felt the need to correct. It was important that Landon knew he and Harry were in a committed, long-term, beautiful relationship full of good feelings. Fake as it was, that was the storyline and he was sticking to it.

“Right,” Landon said, like he didn’t believe him.

“Why are you talking to me right now? Why don’t you go bother Jessica or Aly or-”

“Louis, stop.” Landon interrupted his list of all the people with whom he cheated on Louis. “Tell me what you’re doing with Styles.”

“What do you mean what am I doing with Harry? I’m dating him. We’re in a  _ relationship _ .”  _ Not like you’d know what that is, _ he refrained from adding.

“Yeah, I just think it’s funny how I break up with you and you go right to sleeping with my least favorite person in Phi Kapp and on the rugby team. The one person you know I’d get mad at you being with. That, and whatever you have with Payne too. I have to admit, Louis, you get around. Give it another month or two and you’ll have slept with the whole frat.”

Louis stared at the error message on the printer. ERROR: 387JA23UEC2814E. He felt like he understood it now. That, and its incessant, whiny beeping. Traitorous tears burned the backs of his eyelids. He would not fucking cry in the library.

“You don’t know anything,” he told the printer.

Landon scoffed. “Whatever. I don’t know what you’re doing with Styles, but it’s fucking weird. You’re so different from him.”

Louis dropped his head back down to the display screen on the printer. “What does that even mean?” He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help the masochistically curious questioning in his heart.

“Well, for starters, he’s popular, attractive, and he actually has friends.”

Landon left the rest unsaid. Louis heard it anyways.

“All right. Okay.” Louis patted the printer in camaraderie. ERROR: 387JA23UEC2814E. It was still beeping incessantly. Very relatable. “I’m gonna leave.”

So he rushed out of the library, essay unprinted, late for his second class of the day. Blinking back tears.

  
  
  
  
  


**VII.**

Just as the weather forecast predicted, it rained all through the day, continuing into late afternoon. Louis’ rainboots splashed in the puddles and mud as he sloshed all the way down to the rugby pitch. He’d lost his umbrella over a month ago, so he had to make do with his yellow raincoat and the hood that refused to stay on his head even in the slightest breeze unless he held it there with his hand.

He’d gotten almost no work done today and he had a few assignments due tomorrow that he hadn’t even started yet, but that was a problem for later. For now, he shivered under his raincoat and waded through the flooded fields until he arrived at the edge of the rugby pitch. The team was on the other side, listening to the instructions offered by their coach, and Louis took a seat on the lone bench on his side of the field.

The rain came down in a steady pour that pattered against the waterproof material of his raincoat. At least the sound was pleasant. Louis spotted Harry on the pitch, watching him run around, confident and clearly in his element. His teammates seemed to gravitate towards him, or look to him for directions. He was such a natural born leader, a charismatic charmer, and it was satisfying to witness. Louis felt irrationally proud of him.

Knowing nothing about rugby didn’t help make the situation more interesting, but Louis did his best to follow along with the drills. He didn’t want to be completely clueless about something his fake boyfriend loved. He would have to google the rules later and maybe watch a few professional matches. Or games. He didn’t even know the terminology.

After an hour of sitting in the cold rain, shaking like a dog but also dealing with it because he chose to be here, Louis looked up and noticed the team had stopped for a water break. Well, the team minus Harry had stopped for a water break. Harry was jogging over to him, his wet hair flopping in the rain.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when he was close enough. He cleats gave him a bit more traction, but he still slipped slightly in the mud as he came to a stop. Louis had watched at least five guys on the team fall during the first half of practice alone.

“Being a supportive boyfriend.”

Harry stared at him. Rain was dripping down his face. It made his hair darker, his skin paler, although his cheeks were ruddy and he was radiating heat. His eyes were bright green like the verdant grass of the pitch.

Sometimes it felt like people could see right through him.

“I’m having a shitty day,” Louis amended.

“And sitting in the freezing rain is the solution,” Harry said in that ironic tone of his.

“I mean…”

Silence fell over them.

“Look,” Harry said, wiping some of the rain away from his eyes, though it continued to trickle down his skin in rivulets.

His shirt was soaked and clinging to his skin. It was like a scene from a romance movie, except there was no romance. Just Harry frowning at him with a furrow in his brow.

“The locker room is unlocked. My car keys are in the side pocket of my bag. Locker seventeen,” he said slowly. “Practice is over in thirty minutes, then I have to shower, but I’ll meet you at the car after that. Turn the heat on and get warmed up. There are towels in the trunk. Don’t worry about getting the car muddy or anything, I’ll clean it later. Just, please, let’s get you out of the cold.”

Louis nodded and stood up from the bench. The way Harry said it left no room for disagreement; not that he wanted to disagree, anyway. Nothing sounded nicer than going somewhere warm and dry.

Harry pointed across the fields. “I parked in the lot over there. A black range rover. Okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “We’re talking about this when I’m finished,” he declared, and then gave Louis one last look before turning away and running to catch up with his teammates.

Louis watched him go, wondering what Harry knew, or what he thought he knew. Or what he thought they were going to talk about. Because Louis wasn’t even sure what they were going to talk about.

His joints were creaky from the cold, his muscles stiff, as he made his way over to the locker room, looking for locker seventeen. He found Harry’s locker, and the keys in his bag, right where he said they would be. The key chain had a small rainbow flag charm on it. Louis wondered if it had always been there and people failed to notice, or if it was a new addition. He would have to compliment Harry on it later, maybe ask where he got it.

Walking through the rain was better this time because he had a warm destination in mind. Louis approached the nice car and sighed. Of course Harry had nice car. His family was probably filthy rich, because that was how these things worked. He grabbed two towels from the trunk and then got settled into the passenger’s side. As soon as he shut the door, the rain sounds became muted and he let out a calming breath. With the key turned in the ignition and the heat on full blast, Louis shucked off his raincoat, careful not to drip water everywhere, and set it on the floor in the back before wrapping himself in one of the towels. He sat the other on the driver’s seat for Harry, and then warmed his hands in front of the vents that pumped out warm air.

After a while, feeling returned to his fingers. He used this as an opportunity to send a text to his group chat with Liam and Zayn to let them know he was feeling better and that he was out of the rain now. Then, he snooped around Harry’s car for a bit, pressing the eject button on the radio controls to see the last CD he’d been listening to. Obviously a car as fancy as this had bluetooth connectivity, and Harry probably rarely used the CD player, but still, a disk popped out. Louis inspected it, smiled to himself, then pushed it back in. With the volume turned to a low hum, he sat back, closed his eyes, and listened to the Jonas Brothers’  _ Happiness Begins _ from top to bottom.

Time must have passed, because the next thing he knew, the driver’s side door was opening and Harry was shoving his bag in the back before clambering inside. He shrugged off his rain jacket much like Louis and dried off with the towel. Harry was freshly showered. Louis caught the scent of body wash, shampoo, or some sort of floral-scented soap, like something his sisters would use.

Harry smiled at the music that was playing, pointed at the radio, and said, “I went with my friend’s younger sister and her friends to the concert a few months ago. I had a blast.”

“Your taste in music continues to confuse me.”

“I like boybands,” Harry smiled, turning his body to face Louis. “So, what’s up? Why was your day bad enough to necessitate wallowing in the rain?”

Louis pressed his lips together. “I didn’t come to your practice to dump this all on you.”

“Why not?”

“Because-” He didn’t know how to answer that question. He waved his hands. “I don’t know, not much of it has to do with you.”

“But some of it does.”

“Yeah, but only because I dragged you into the whole mess with Landon.”

“To be clear, I willingly agreed to go along with your plan. But, you saw Landon today?”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, rubbing his temples. “I promise I didn’t come here so you’d have to listen to my problems.”

“I don’t mind. Actually, I want to listen. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, are we?” Louis countered.

Harry looked down and ran his thumb over the edge of his hoodie sleeve. “I think we are.” He laughed a little, still looking down. “I mean, let’s see… We kissed at a party, plotted revenge against your ex at breakfast, watched a movie together, and then pretended to have sex in my bed, so. Seems like friends to me.”

Louis laughed too. It was all so ridiculous. “All right, I guess I have no choice but to agree with that. How was practice?”

“It was good. Cold and wet, obviously, but I always love playing in the rain. We practiced slide tackles, which was why I was so muddy.”

“Makes sense.”

“You’re not gonna distract me from what we were talking about earlier, you know.”

“Damn it,” Louis joked, snapping his fingers.

“Wanna go for a drive? We can listen to music. Is there a specific time you have to be back?”

“Nah, the whole night is open for me.” He could do his assignments tomorrow, if he could muster the motivation. The idea of getting in the car just for the sake of driving around was something he’d never considered before. Maybe it was something Harry frequently did with his friends; he seemed like the type.

“So, what do you say?”

“Sure, I guess. Where are we going?”

Harry pinched his bottom lip between his fingers as he pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the road. “Mm, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but even that couldn’t hide his small smile. He turned his head to the side to look out the window instead. Paramount was in the middle of nowhere, so leaving campus meant seeing nothing but farmland and forests, bisected by long, winding country roads. It was peaceful, especially in the rain, with the grey sky and the water falling down steadily. It was contrasted with the bubble of shelter they had created within the dry car, with quiet music, and warm air pumping in through the vents. Louis was still cold though, so he folded his arms over his chest as he looked at the passing fields and occasional barns or houses out the window.

Harry didn’t say anything, but Louis knew he was wondering. “This is gonna sound stupid and unimportant,” Louis prefaced, knowing Harry deserved an explanation more than anything.

“It’s not unimportant if it’s making you upset.”

“I dunno,” Louis warned.

“Just tell me. It’s okay.”

Heaving a big sigh, he kept his eyes focused on the scenery and the raindrops trickling down the windows as he told an abbreviated story of his day. He listed everything that had contributed to the shittiness, even the small things. Harry stayed quiet, but nodded along and responded appropriately with hums of sympathy. He was good at listening.

It became more difficult to explain when Louis got to the part about the printer in the library. He sighed at his own inability to communicate, and then forced himself to blurt it out: all the things Landon said to him today, unfiltered. He blushed when he got to the part about Harry being popular, attractive, and actually having friends.

“He really said that to you? Like, he really just came up to you and said all of that?”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t really want to talk about it. But now you know what happened.”

Harry’s hands were clenched around the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead, focusing on the road. “What a dick. Why were you into him, again?”

Louis chuckled to himself, squeezing his arms tighter around his middle. “I ask myself that everyday.”

They were quiet for a moment, with only the sound of the rain hitting the car and the wheels on the wet road.

“No, seriously though, why were you and him together? I don’t mean this like he did, but you two are really different. It’s hard to imagine you together.”

“I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- It has less to do with your personality,” Harry corrected. “It’s more the fact that he’s a dick and you’re, like, not.”

“Thanks.” Louis had since removed his rainboots and curled his feet up on the seat, resting his head against the cool window to get more comfortable. “We had a class together freshman year, since he’s poly sci and I’m history and all that. I thought he was hot, I dunno. He’s charming when he wants to be, I’m sure you know that. I needed help with an essay and the prof recommended I talk to him since he was doing well in the class, so I did, and we ended up, like, making out in the library.”

“Wow,” Harry laughed. “I thought I was the only stranger you’ve kissed.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you are. It wasn’t until the third or fourth time we met up that we made out. We weren’t strangers by then.”

Thinking back to that moment kind of hurt, like looking back and realizing in hindsight that it was a mistake. He had been so shy then, and someone as popular and attractive as Landon liking him had blinded him. The simple bit of interest and affection had sent him sailing over the moon. What was he supposed to know?

“You don’t seriously believe him, though, do you?”

“About what?”

“About us being so different.”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Louis said. “I think we’re pretty different.”

“Well I disagree.”

Louis stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to make about Harry’s insistence, or why the topic was even important in the first place. He knew he and Harry were different; they enjoyed different interests, hung out with different people, had different plans for the future, and so on. Harry was social and well-known, he was president of Phi Kappa Alpha and that was no easy feat. He played rugby, ate every meal with a big group of people, and threw parties on the weekends. And what did Louis do?

Mostly, he studied. English and history were the two majors at Paramount that required the most reading. Most nights, he was drowning in historical documents and classic literature, not to mention the millions of essays he’d had to write during his four years here. He worked in the library to save money for after graduation, because he still didn’t have a job offer lined up and he was trying not to freak out about that. He tutored kids at the local elementary school, helping them with multiplication and division and reading fairy tales to them three times a week. He liked attending poetry readings when he had time. His only leadership position was being co-president of the LGBTQ organization, and sure, they held a few events throughout each semester and a lot of people came to him when they were going through hard times, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. It didn’t feel like enough.

“Was that the end of your bad day, or is there more?”

“Oh, there’s more.” Just the thought of it made Louis gloomy. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. “This is gonna sound even stupider than the other things.”

“Like I said, it’s not stupid if it’s making you upset.”

Louis swallowed. “You know Sadie and Andrew?”

“The couple that’s always hugging by the quad?”

“Yeah.” Everyone knew them. They’d been together since freshman year and they were both really sweet, kind people. Sadie had been in Louis’ statistics class last year for his math requirement, and she had offered to help him with analyses of variance when he was hopelessly lost in class. She shared her notes with him and even went through all the trouble of explaining it until he understood it—all of it.

“What about them?”

“They were walking in front of me, holding hands and just being really sweet. You know how they are.” Usually public displays of affection from straight couples made Louis look away fast enough to crack his neck, but Sadie and Andrew were so genuinely in love that seeing them together usually made his heart warm and fuzzy. “And, I dunno, it just made me really sad. ‘Cause I’ll never get to have that. But it’s okay. I don’t mean to be jealous. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“I told you it was stupid. But yeah, that’s all. It was just the icing on the cake, I guess, since I was already in a bad mood.”

Harry still hadn’t reacted in any way, and Louis glanced over at him, worried. His fingers were still wrapped just as tight around the wheel, his eyes straight ahead.

“Why will you never get to have that?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘because I’ll never get to have that.’ Why not?”

“Oh,” Louis hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t want to explain it. He didn’t even want to think about it.

“Is that what Landon said to you, to get you to keep your relationship a secret?”

“What? No, I dunno-” Louis rushed, nervously picking at his nails. Harry’s sudden intensity was freaking him out.

Besides, in the beginning, It had been a collective choice to keep their relationship private. Landon was the one who suggested it at first, of course, but Louis was fine going along with it. Keeping things secret made it feel even more special, like something only they knew. It was exciting to sneak around, to have Landon text him late at night and ask him if he could come over for a bit. Of course, he never wanted to stay until morning, but that was fine. Sleeping in the twin bed together wouldn’t be very comfortable. Besides, Louis always sort of thought Landon was worried about coming out to more people, and he didn’t want to pressure him.

“Can we talk about something else?” Louis requested.

“Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

  
  
  
  
  


**VIII.**

An hour-long drive in the rain brought them to a small farmer’s market in the middle of nowhere. No one was there except one lone lady standing beneath a tent at the makeshift cash register. The wooden signs advertising pumpkins, gourds, and fresh apple pies were darkened with rainwater. Harry parked in the gravel and opened the door, smiling at the lady and greeting her in that friendly, charming way of his.

Louis followed him out and tugged his hood over his head. The sky still wasn’t letting up, but the steady trickle was slightly gentler here. Their boots crunched on gravel and sloshed in the flooded grass as they made their way to the stands of different fruits and gourds and finally the large field of bright orange pumpkins of every size.

“I love coming here. This is my favorite place in the world.”

Louis squinted around at the endless fields that just looked like everywhere else in Indiana. “Really? “ he questioned, skeptical. It was hard to be sure where his own favorite place in the world was, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t a downtrodden corn field.

“Yeah. Don’t you just love it?”

He shrugged, toeing a tiny pumpkin with his rainboot. The small ones always made him smile. Back home, he carved pumpkins with his siblings every year for Halloween, which always led to a big mess, and was more trouble than it was worth, but it was tradition. He missed his family. He hadn’t called home to check up on them in a while, in more than a week, and he wouldn’t be home to see them until Thanksgiving.

“Are you still sad?”

Louis wasn’t sure what Harry thought had changed during the course of the endless drive out here, because Louis still felt more or less the same. He shrugged again, picking up the tiny pumpkin and holding it out to Harry like an offering.

“Do you want that one? It’s cute. I’ll buy it for you.”

Louis quickly set it down. Harry picked it up again, tucked it under his arm, and began wandering through the aisles of pumpkins. Having no choice but to trail after him, Louis followed.

“What did you say to your brothers, by the way? I’ve been meaning to ask. Last week, I mean. They were acting weird.” The Japanese movie and the jumping on the bed and the Louis wearing Harry’s clothes had happened last Wednesday. It was Monday now; a full weekend had passed and they’d run into each other on campus since then, but barely even stopped to say hi. Senior year was busy, and they were on different schedules.

Harry laughed like he was reminiscing a memory. “I was kind of just like, ‘I have a boyfriend I haven’t told you guys about, we’ve been together for months, and he’s coming over today, so if you have a problem with that, you can leave.’ So everyone shut up about it ‘cause I think they were a bit afraid I was gonna yell at them. Not that I would, but. Liam says I can come off as intense when I’m trying to be serious.”

“I agree with that statement,” Louis concluded. “It’s your jawline. Very intense.”

“If you say so.”

“Was it hard coming out? I mean, given the situation. Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it’s okay. Um, it wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve done in my life, but. I’ve been wanting to come out since freshman year. I just knew I wanted to be pres, and I had to wait until then if I wanted any shot at it.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

“Well, now that you’re out, you should come to Prism meetings. Become a part of the community, you know.” Prism was the LGBTQ organization that Louis co-led. “Or, are you a part of Athletes for Equality? I can’t go to the meetings because I don’t play a sport, but we co-host a lot of events with them and they’re really great people. Prism meets every Thursday from ten to eleven PM, and I’m not sure about Athletes for Equality but I can ask one of my friends-”

Harry cut off his rambling by handing him the tiny pumpkin. “I feel kind of weird just showing up randomly.”

“Yeah, but people know you just came out, so it makes sense. If you want someone to go with, I’ll be going to the Prism meetings, since I have to, because I run them, obviously.” Clearly holding the pumpkin did nothing to stop his rambling.

“Okay, I guess, sure. I’ll go with you this Thursday?”

“Sure!” Louis’s shoulders sagged with relief. Helping someone always made his heart feel happy. “It’ll be at the diversity center, which is actually pretty close to where you live. I guess I can swing by the Phi Kapp house on my way there.”

“Cool.”

They wandered around, through the rows of pumpkins and other produce. The rain was still just as cold as before, but Louis’ body had a habit of heating up whenever he was around Harry, and beneath his coat and hoodie he could feel his skin getting clammy with sweat. Harry got to chatting with the lady running the farmer’s market, asking her about the bakery, which somehow divulged into a conversation about hometowns and how much they loved the holidays. Louis was much more shy around people he didn’t know, and he was impressed by Harry’s ability to make conversation with anyone. Twenty minutes later, they trudged back to the car with a tiny pumpkin and a gigantic—freshly baked, still warm—apple pie.

“Dude, this smells so good,” Louis groaned as they got back into the car. He was the delegated protector of the pie, since Harry was the one driving.

“I might have some plastic forks in the glove compartment.”

Louis checked but there weren’t any there. “Fortunately, neither one of us is desperate enough to eat this with our hands.”

“Hey, speak for yourself,” Harry joked, reaching under the lid to break off a piece of crust and pop it in his mouth. He moaned as he chewed and it was stupidly erotic. Louis laughed to cover up the fact that his cheeks were burning. Apparently everything that had happened last Wednesday was still not enough to desensitize him to the way even Harry’s joking moans sounded obscene.

Not for the first time, Louis wondered what he was doing, here, right now, in the car with Harry Styles. Less than two weeks ago, he hadn’t even known he existed.

He tipped his head back and rested it against the seat. “Where to next?”

Harry donned his seatbelt, pointed at Louis’, and turned the music up. “It’s a surprise.”

  
  
  
  
  


**IX.**

They ended up at the corner shop of a small, unnamed town, padding through the aisles under the fluorescent lights without a clear goal in mind. The Halloween decorations and costumes were out, which meant they spent at least twenty minutes trying on ridiculous masks and wigs and holding a mini fashion show. Harry was wrapped up in a rainbow feather boa with a sparkly purple children’s cowboy on his hat by the time they moved onto the candy aisle. Louis was wearing two pairs of heart-shaped sunglasses and a black cape.

“I’m deadass gonna buy this scarf.”

“Oh, absolutely, you’d be absolutely crazy not to,” Louis drawled, fluttering his hand in the air and readjusting one of his pairs of glasses.

A heated debate about the best Halloween candy took place in the next aisle. Louis chucked a full bag of individually wrapped KitKats at Harry and was satisfied when it smacked him in the chest. Harry retaliated by whacking him with a stray Twizzlers. They finally settled on Hershey’s and picked up the seasonal bag of kisses.

Louis was quickly coming to the realization that hanging out with Harry was  _ fun. _ He was laid back and lowkey, but he also always had something weird and funny to say, and nearly everything that came out of his mouth made Louis laugh. It also helped that Harry cackled at Louis’ jokes like they were the funniest things in the world, sometimes literally laughing so loud that Louis felt the need to cover his mouth with the palm of his hand and shush him through giggles. They were both being so  _ disruptive. _

The shopkeeper glared at them as Harry attempted to do a cartwheel by the school supplies display. Louis had no idea how they’d even gotten here in the first place, but it might’ve had something to do with Louis doubting Harry’s abilities to complete a successful cartwheel.

“Oh my god, stop, stop,” Louis hissed, tugging on Harry’s arm and stifling his laughter as best as he could. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Then don’t doubt my abilities.”

“You have no abilities. Your attempt at a cartwheel was just you flopping on the ground.”

“Shut up, it was  _ good,  _ I should be a gymnast.”

“I mean, sure, if that’s what you want.”

They picked up a bottle of wine from the feeble array of choices. Louis was more of a beer person, but Harry was really insistent about this one brand, so he went with it. They were walking past the makeup section to get to the check-out when Louis noticed Harry’s eyes lingering.

“What is it?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.” Harry quickly looked away, but Louis could recognize that longing gaze anywhere. He looked in the direction where Harry had been staring and his eyes landed on the wall of nail polish.

“Oh,” he said, a little surprised.  _ We can look, if you want, _ he wanted to offer, but knew it probably wouldn’t go very well. So he just grabbed Harry by the elbow and dragged him over there, not giving him a choice to chicken out.

“Louis, stop-”

Louis dropped his arm and gave him a look before meaningfully shifting his gaze to the display. There were bottles of nail polish in every color of the rainbow, some sparkly or metallic, some shimmery, some normal. He’d been makeup shopping with his sisters before, so this wasn’t too foreign, and besides, nail polish was easy; all you had to do was select a color that pleased you.

“Come on,” he encouraged gently. “Pick something out. How about this one?”

“Louis,” Harry whined, his eyes flitting to the display, then to the cherry red bottle in his hand, then decidedly in the other direction, settling there.

Louis watched him curiously, trying to pick up certain cues. Did he want the nail polish, or had it been a mistake? Was he embarrassed? Did he actually want Louis to back off—or was it only a front?

“I’m not much of a nail polish person, myself,” he said carefully, “But I know this would look good on you. Do you like red? Red is a classic. Or black? Hmm, maybe… Oh,” he finally deciphered where Harry’s attention was focused—on the extensive section of various shades of pink. “Those are nice.”

Harry bit his lip, but didn’t say anything. He reached out and touched one of the pale pink bottles with unnecessary tentativeness, like it would shatter if he wasn’t careful. Louis stood patiently by his side.

He picked it up, then put it back down.

“I don’t know. I can’t-”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“If you want it, you should get it.”

“What if it looks weird?”

Louis shrugged. “You can always take it off. We can get nail polish remover, too.”

Harry bit his lip harder. “I’ve never tried it before. I’m probably bad at it.”

“At painting your nails? I’ve painted my sisters’ a few times and it’s not too hard. I could help you, if you want.”

Harry seemed torn. He set the bottle back on the shelf, then picked it up again. Then set it down again.

“For god sakes, Harry.”

“Fine.” He picked it up and held it tightly. His free hand darted out and grabbed another color, baby blue this time. “Okay, let’s go.”

Harry picked up a bottle of acetone on their way to the checkout, and they set down their smorgasboard of items in front of the cashier. Louis ditched the heart-shaped glasses and the cape, and Harry got rid of his sparkly cowboy hat but handed the feather boa over to the cashier as well.

Back in the car, Louis unwrapped the Halloween-decorated foil from Hershey kisses and handed them to Harry so he wouldn’t be distracted from driving. Before they even pulled out of the parking lot, Harry handed Louis the bottle of wine.

“There’s a corkscrew in the glove compartment.”

“That better be because you go on a lot of dates where you drink wine under the stars, and not ‘cause you drink and drive,” Louis warned, already twisting the cork out from the neck of the bottle.

Harry’s face conveyed his revulsion at the accusation. “I definitely don’t drink and drive. That’s why the whole bottle is yours.”

“Good.” Louis took a tentative sip, lips wrapping around the mouth of the bottle. He wiped a bead of red away from the corner of his mouth and then decided to fuck it, he swallowed three full mouthfuls.

Getting drunk would probably make him feel better. Even though it was Monday night. Spending time with Harry had already made him feel better. Being here made him feel better. It was like a breath of relief. The rain continued to pour down in steady sheets, but it didn’t feel as cold anymore. It didn’t feel as dreary. He connected his phone to the car’s bluetooth speakers, and made a playlist. He hid his smile as the songs he chose got Harry to sing along at the top of his lungs.

An hour later, they ended up the Phi Kappa Alpha house. Harry didn’t even ask if Louis wanted to go home instead. And maybe it said something that Louis wasn’t even thinking of Landon at all when they went up to Harry’s room and closed the door behind them.

Harry let Louis pick a record to play, although he insisted on being the one to set it up, since the player was fragile, and Louis was tipsy. The bottle was significantly lighter than before, and he kept it clutched close to his chest, for fear someone would take it away, or he would spill it.

So Louis shrugged and sat down on the persian rug, a thrift store find, and opened up the box with the apple pie inside it. They’d grabbed forks from the kitchen downstairs with every intention of using them.

“Here, be civilized,” Harry insisted, thrusting a coffee mug in his face. “I don’t have wine glasses, obviously.”

“Fair enough,” Louis smiled, filling the mug with red. It kind of looked like blood, and he took a huge sip, smiling up at Harry.

“You like it?”

“It’s good.”

They ate half the pie between the two of them, all while listening to music and talking and laughing. Harry was partway through an endless, rambling story about his activism against the injustices at SeaWorld when Louis finally finished the bottle.

“Feeling good?”

“Very good.”

“Good.”

Louis must’ve been making a funny face, because Harry laughed at him. “Here, let me take this.” Gently tugging the empty bottle from his grasp, and the empty mug, their fingers brushed. Maybe it was just because louis was drunk, but the simple contact made his skin tingle, like a pleasant electric current.

Balancing wasn’t the easiest task right now, so Louis leant against Harry’s desk. They were both still sitting on the floor, and Harry had since turned on the fairy lights around his bed, casting the room in a warm glow. It looked as magical as he’d imagined last week. When he let his eyes go unfocused, the lights danced in his vision like shimmery sparkles.

“You look like you did the night we met.”

Louis raised his brows. “I was also very drunk then. But so were you. So. Makes sense.”

Harry smiled at him, from across the small distance. He was sitting cross-legged on the rug, while Louis had his knees pulled up to his chest. They had spent the past hour in this position, in endless conversation.

“Too drunk to paint my nails?”

“I can give it a shot.”

He motioned for Harry to scooch closer, and Harry obliged, setting his hands on Louis’ knees. Even his fingertips emanated heat. After shaking the bottle to be certain the pigment was uniform, Louis dragged the brush over Harry’s thumbnail, painting a neat coat of pink. He was pleased with himself for not messing up, given his current mental state, which was to say, intoxicated. He painted the rest of his nails on the one hand just as slow and careful.

Even as drunk as he was, Louis was not oblivious to the tension in the room. They were so close, breathing the same air. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, boring into him, but he didn’t mind. He did not allow his focus to waver from the task at hand, because if he did, he would surely mess up.

Harry was quiet and Louis was concentrated, and the music faded out as the album finished its entirety. Then the only sound that was left was the vinyl spinning on the player, the soft scratchy absence of melody, and the heating kicking on. Louis’ fingers were steady. Harry’s were warm.

He had to grab his hand, changing the angle, in order to paint his next thumb. The skin Louis touched was clammy, like Harry was nervous. Politely ignoring it, he continued to paint.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed.

“Do you want me to do your toes?”

“That’s okay. Maybe later.”

“Okay.” Louis twisted the cap on the bottle and set it off to the side. The room was spinning a little, swaying, but Harry was in focus. Right in front of him, the only thing unmoving aside from his steady breathing. His eyes reflected the fairy lights like specks of glitter.

“Are you-” Harry started, then stopped.

Hugging his knees closer to his chest brought him more warmth and comfort. He trailed his own unpainted fingers down his shins and encouraged in a hum, “Hm?”

“Are you- Do you really… Are you still in love with- Nevermind.”

Louis blinked at him. “Do you want to know?”

“Not… really…”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, and clasped his hands together. “Okay, good stuff. Your nails look lovely. Let’s talk about something. Umm,” he scanned his mind for a suitable topic that would change the subject with ease. “Umm, rugby? Tell me about rugby. I don’t understand anything. I was so confused today. It’s like football, but also soccer, and it’s very aggressive, right? There was a lot going on. You looked good, though. I mean- You looked like you knew what you were doing. Which makes sense, because you’ve probably been playing your whole life. Okay. Rugby?”

Harry smiled at him, and fluttered his hands through the air to dry the polish with more efficiency.

“Okay, so, the object of the game is to….”

  
  
  
  
  


**X.**

When Louis woke up, it was cold and dark and he didn’t know where he was.

The room was full of unfamiliar shapes, and it smelled different, like lavender oil and unfamiliar laundry detergent. His back hurt like hell from sleeping on the floor, his left shoulder aching from digging into the unforgiving hardwood as he was curled on his side, and shivers wracked through his body, literally making his teeth chatter. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and caught a glimpse of the bed, and a body peacefully sleeping.

Oh. Right.

Louis wasn’t sure if he woke up because he was cold, because his back hurt, or because he had to piss, but he could only solve one of those issues right now, so he shuffled to the bathroom. It was warmer inside, and he realized the bedroom was so cold because Harry had the window cracked open to let in the cold October breeze, which settled around Louis like ice water with his two measly blankets doing little to protect him from the cold. Meanwhile Harry was swathed in a fluffy duvet, living his best life.

After doing his business, he flicked the light off and reentered Harry’s room. He was still drunk and it was making the room spin.

“Harry.”

“Mm…”

He was on his stomach, his arms curling around a spare pillow and clutching it close to his chest. In the darkness, the planes of his face looked softer than usual. Also, he was shirtless. Louis suddenly remembered Harry taking his shirt off before bed. He had balled it up and thrown it to the other side of the room, at least in the direction of the hamper, like a heathen. And then he was all skin and muscle and surprising softness to his hips and chest, and Louis’ face had burned even though he’d only caught a glimpse before averting his eyes.

That was his fake boyfriend, all right, Louis was allowed to think he was hot.

Now, Louis poked his bare shoulder. “ _ Harry. _ ”

“Mmm, what?”

“I’m cold.”

He was expecting a grumbled, snarky  _ and?  _ or  _ so what? _ or maybe just to be ignored altogether. He was not expecting Harry to shove the sheets back and pat the spot next to him on the mattress like an invitation.

Even still drunk and half-asleep, he was caught off-guard. “Oh.”

The earlier part of the night was a blur, and Louis couldn’t remember much. After painting Harry’s nails, they stayed sitting on the floor and continued their conversation, talking about anything and everything. Louis couldn’t be sure, but he might have made some confessions he wouldn’t have made without the loose-limbed wine drunkenness that made him care less about keeping secrets. He had probably said something embarrassing, but he couldn’t be sure. It was hard to say. Louis knew he would cringe about it in the morning, but for now he didn’t care. Harry was the one who had asked him if he wanted to spend the night, anyway. He had politely offered his own bed to Louis, which wasn’t a thing normal people did, but Louis had declined and said he’d rather be the one on the floor. And here they were now.

Harry didn’t say anything else, but rolled onto his other side of the bed, now facing the wall with his back to Louis, to make room for him.

Because Louis was still drunk and half-asleep, and really fucking cold, he clambered onto the spot Harry made for him and got settled in.

It was warm from body heat and all the blankets. He pulled the duvet up to his chin and stayed still on his back, staring up at the swaying ceiling. The bed was small but they had still managed to put a few inches between them. The warmth still radiated off of Harry and Louis was highly cognizant of that fact, because he felt it, seeping into him. Harry’s breaths evened out again and it was like he had fallen back asleep. Louis closed his eyes.

  
  
  
  


**XI.**

The thing about sex dreams was that they changed something inside you. When you woke up, you saw the world differently. Or, at the very least, what you saw differently was one specific person.

Louis startled awake.

He was afraid to open his eyes. He was incredibly warm and cozy and he thought that if he opened his eyes, the illusion would shatter. It still felt real. He could still feel the skin on skin and heady pleasure. The details of his dream were still fresh in his mind.

In real life, his fingers were twisted around something soft. In his dream, his fingers had been twisted around someone’s hair. His hair. Harry’s hair.

He cracked one eye open—to see nothing but skin.

So Louis’ face was pressed to Harry’s bare back. His hand was twisted into the side of his plaid pajama pants, near the pocket, clinging to the fabric. One of Louis’ ankles was tucked neatly between Harry’s. It just kept getting worse and worse. Harry was still asleep, thank god, his breathing pattern long and slow, and Louis felt it more than heard it, because he was so close to his back that he could feel his lungs expanding and deflating through his ribcage.

Louis didn’t even have to shift his hips to know he was hard. He could feel it, the hot throbbing sensitivity. How good it felt to be pressed up against another warm body.

He tried not to think about who that body belonged to. He tried not to panic. If he wanted to disentangle himself without Harry noticing, he would have to move with the utmost care and precision.

Slowly, slowly, he unwound his fingers from the fabric of Harry’s pajama pants and retracted his own hand back to his chest.

Somehow, stupidly, the small movement jostled them both.

Harry sniffled, and then froze. Louis cringed.

_ Oh shit, _ he thought.

“Louis?” His voice was deep and raw from sleep, like he’d since dipped it into a jar of honey.

He very carefully did not move. When he spoke, his own voice was equally shot to hell, and the word puffed out on Harry’s skin in a humid breath because of the incredibly close proximity. All at once, it felt much too intimate. “Yes?”

The question was muffled by the pillow and swaths of sheets. “What’s…” the long  _ s  _ drawn out in a sigh, “going on?”

“Umm,” Louis eloquently stated, mind running a mile a minute, already starting to sweat. He was  _ pressed up _ against Harry, certain  _ things _ were  _ touching Harry _ , Louis had just had a strange, explicit dream about having sex with  _ Harry _ .

“Are you- Is that-”

Louis had no intention of ever finding out what Harry was asking. He shuffled backwards as far as he could, almost toppling over the edge of the mattress, but his foot was still caught between Harry’s ankles.

He yanked his leg to free it, and the momentum sent him over the edge. He had no time to flail before he hit the floor—hard.

The thud rang through the air but Louis ignored it, scrambling backwards. His hand bumped into his phone, discarded on the floor. He gathered the rest of his belongings, not much, just his raincoat and his shoes.

It was still dark in the room so it must’ve been early in the morning, right? He stumbled to his feet, eyes landing on Harry in bed who was rubbing his eyes sleepily, leaning back on his elbows, looking confused.

“What’s going on?” he repeated in that same slow, sleepy drawl, just as lost as before. His hair was messy, sticking up in different places, and now was not the time to think that Harry Styles looked even sexier than usual upon just waking up. In his dream, Louis had twisted his fingers all up in that hair. Real life Louis knew what that felt like, how soft his hair actually was, because he had done the same thing the night at the party, when Louis attacked him in a kiss. Fuck.

“Go back to sleep,” Louis encouraged in a stilted voice. The strategic placement of his raincoat concealed his crotch. Maybe Harry would assume this had all been a dream? One could only hope.

“Louis?” Harry tried one more time, sounding more like  _ Lou-eh _ , but he received no response, because Louis was already out the door. Quite literally running.

He had never been this much of a mess. Stumbling out of a frat house, barefoot on the cold ground, shoes in hand, wondering what day it was. It was a Tuesday morning, wasn’t it? Shit, he had to get to class. He had no idea what time it was. This was the ultimate walk of shame, worse than having sex with a stranger. Louis had a dream about Harry while huddled up against his back, presumably drawn to his irresistible warmth and his intoxicating aroma of fancy bath products and musky sweat. Louis had a dream about Harry that involved bedroom activities. He was going to keel over and die.

The sky was dark and no one was out. Maybe it was earlier than he thought. His phone was dead. His head was pounding with a killer migraine, definitely a hangover from drinking all that wine last night.

He considered puking in the bushes, but he didn’t even feel nauseous. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, so he kept running, barefoot, down the street, all the way back to his dorm.

Stumbling into his room was not one of his brightest moments. Niall was asleep and peaceful in bed, dead to the world, snoring. It looked like he hadn’t even taken his golf clothes off before passing out. The time on the alarm clock glowed artificial blue in the otherwise dark room. 5:22 AM.

Louis smacked his hand over his head. It was much earlier than he thought. He had at least three hours to pull himself together before his day started.

He trudged down the hall to the communal showers, already admitting defeat. He was, in fact, going to jerk off to the dream memory of Harry taking him in his hand and kissing the sensitive, tingly skin just below his ear as he got him off. There was no point in denying it. The dreamy hazel, the warm press of bodies, the velvety feel of skin on skin… all of it still felt real.

  
  
  
  
  


**XII.**

Louis barged into the room without knocking, already preemptively covering his eyes for the sake of his own sanity. If Liam and Zayn were alone in a room for more than five minutes, there was a ninety-five percent chance they were engaging in unsavory activities. Louis had seen it all before, so he didn’t let it inhibit him.

“Darlings, I have a horrible problem that’s probably going to kill me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Liam swore, jumping back from Zayn at the sound of the door slamming and Louis announcing his entrance. As predicted, the two of them were in varying states of undress, half-covered by the dark purple mess of sheets on Zayn’s bed. Since all Paramount students lived on campus all four years, Zayn lived in a single dorm, but somehow he’d managed to secure a queen-sized bed, while everyone else was stuck with a twin. It made absolutely no sense.

“That is not my name,” Louis pointed out. “Did you not hear me? I have a horrible problem that’s prob-”

“-ably going to kill you,” Zayn finished in a dry voice, looking bored, despite the fact that his lips were shiny with spit. Liam’s spit. And he was still being half-pressed against the mattress by his secret boyfriend.

“It’s about Harry,” Louis supplied, because he knew that would get their attention. He waited patiently by the door. “But we have to talk about it somewhere else. It reeks of sex in here.”

Liam sighed. Zayn cupped his face and pressed a deep kiss to his lips before gently shoving him out of the way and climbing out of bed. “C’mon, babes, our child needs us.”

“Ew, I am not your child.”

“You sure act like it.”

Louis glared, then fixed his fringe. Then he covered his face in his hands and groaned. All the bravado in the world could not cover up the fact that he actually was really, really distraught about what happened this morning. He was so embarrassed to say it out loud, but worse than that was the thought of keeping it bottled up inside forever.

After Liam and Zayn got dressed, the three of them made their way across campus to the central quad. The cloudless blue sky and balmy breeze was a pleasing departure from the previous weather of torrential downpours and unforgiving wind. They laid a blanket on the grass to avoid getting mud on their clothes, since the ground was still saturated from yesterday. Liam and Zayn sat down like normal people, with a respectable distance between them now that they were in public, but Louis flung himself across the blanket and groaned. After his minor outburst, he repositioned his head so it was in Zayn’s lap, allowing him to stroke his hair.

“Are you gonna tell us what happened, or do we have to guess?”

“Does this have anything to do with Harry asking me about you this morning?” Liam added.

“What? He asked about me?” He tried, and failed, to keep the hint of panic out of his voice.

“Yeah,” Liam said slowly. “We’re in the same Earth Systems class.”

“What’d he say?”

“He asked if I knew if you were okay. Which is obviously a concerning question to be asked, especially since I hadn't heard from you, so that’s why I texted you.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh, god.”

“So then I asked why he was asking about you, and he told me you ‘left abruptly,’ and he ‘just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ To which I asked when and where. And he said, and I quote, ‘my room, this morning.’ End quote.”

Zayn’s hand stopped petting his hair. Louis wrapped his arms around his chest and squeezed himself in a hug. “Oh, god.”

“Babes. Did you…”

“No.” Louis sucked in a sharp breath. “Nope, no no no. It’s  _ not _ what it sounds like-”

“Harry is a really good guy,” Liam interjected in that supportive tone of his that was so earnestly paternal it was almost painful. “You could do worse, a lot worse. I was just confused because you said you would never go near another frat guy since Landon, but to be honest I think you and Harry would be really good together, now that I think about it. We’re really proud of you for putting yourself out there and going after what you want, we just hope you’re being careful because we don’t really know Harry’s relationship behaviors since he hasn’t dated anyone before, but-”

“Ahh, no, nothing happened!” Louis rushed to explain. “We didn’t sleep together. I mean, we slept together, but we didn’t  _ sleep _ together. We… he… I… I was having a really bad day yesterday and I went to his rugby practice and he gave me the keys to his car, so I listened to the Jonas Brothers and kind of fell asleep and then we drove to a farmer’s market and bought a tiny pumpkin. Well, he bought the tiny pumpkin, but he kept trying to give it to me. And then we went to the store and I got drunk but he wouldn’t drink because he has practice today. Then I painted his nails and we talked about so many different things, but it’s kind of a blur, because I had  _ a lot _ of wine, and I don’t remember much but I guess we decided it would be best for me to stay the night, since I didn’t have my skateboard and it was late at night anyways and I didn’t want him to have to drive me all the way home but he didn’t want me to walk in the dark,” he explained all in one breath, barreling forward, “So I fell asleep on the floor but then I got really cold and my shoulders hurt and he let me sleep in his bed and it was so warm and fine and normal, he was just being a good friend, and then I- and then I…”

He groaned into his hands and then rolled over to smash his face into Zayn’s knee. Liam and Zayn were apparently stunned or confused into silence because they didn’t say anything.

But Louis couldn’t contain it anymore. “I had a sex dream about him!” he blurted, way too loud, drawing the attention of others also hanging out on the quad, and then slammed his mouth shut so hard his teeth clanked together.

“Oh,” Liam said. “Oh.”

“See, we didn’t do anything. He doesn’t even like me like that, obviously.  _ I  _ didn’t even like him like that, but then my subconscious had to drag up all these weird images and feelings and then I woke up and it was just a mess. I don’t know how, but I guess in my sleep I was drawn to his warmth because this morning I was, like, clinging to him. And I panicked. So, yeah. That’s why I’m going to die.”

Enough moments of silence had passed that Louis opened one eye to make sure Liam and Zayn were still present.

“You know,” Zayn finally said, rubbing some of the tension out of Louis’ shoulders. “I’m failing to see why this is that big of a problem.”

“I agree,” Liam seconded. “You heard what I said. Harry’s a good guy. Not the worst person to have a crush on.”

“It’s not a crush,” he groaned, even though it totally was. “It’s just my dick being lonely and interested in a cute boy. But weren’t you guys listening? The problem is that he doesn’t like me, obviously.”

Liam and Zayn shared a look over his head.

“Ugh, you guys always do that. What does that mean? Also, can we focus on me again? I’m going to die. I have to drop out of college. I should just book a flight now. Should I go to Mongolia? Do you think that’s far enough away from here? I can live in a yurt, like, one of those tent things. Learn to herd horses. Can horses be herded? See, Mongolia will teach me things. Mongolia will teach me to forget about the fact that my boner was all up against Harry Styles’ ass this morning.” He sighed. “His stupidly cute ass.”

Liam burst out laughing. Zayn smirked and said, “Louis Tomlinson, I love you for your melodrama. I also fail to see why you think Harry would be bothered by your boner all up against his ass this morning.”

“Bleh. Don’t mock me. Also, we all know how uncomfortable it is when someone you don’t even like is, like, you know. I should start packing my bags. I literally can never see him again. Fuck.”

“Did Harry seem distraught this morning, Liam?” Zayn asked, in that tone of voice that said he already knew the answer. “Or disgusted? Or in any way upset that Louis was all over him last night?”

“No, definitely not. He was just worried that you left so abruptly.”

“Ugh.” Louis didn’t want to think about it anymore. His mind kept travelling back to his dream and those remote moments right after waking up when he had yet to discern dream from reality. It had felt so real, the warmth, the intimacy. He groaned and face-planted into Zayn’s thigh again.

“Oh look, speak of the devil,” Liam commented with humor in his voice.

“What?!” Louis sat up so quickly, he banged the top of his head into Zayn’s jaw. “Fuck, sorry.” He whipped his head around, and his eyes landed on a group of guys on the rugby team crossing the quad. One of them was Harry, because of course. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

He scrambled to his feet, planning to make a break for it. He barely made it five steps before Harry was calling his name.

Running away from his fake boyfriend was not a good idea, even if he tried to play it off as a joke. He stopped, resigned to his fate, and only turned around when Harry called his name again.

“There you are. Have you been avoiding me?”

There was laughter from some of Harry’s teammates, but they didn’t know how true the insinuation really was. Zayn snickered, and Louis’ foot “accidentally” connected with his shins.

“Who, me?” He plastered an innocent smile on his face, setting his hand on his hip. Harry was the one leading the group, walking in front of everyone else to get to Louis. He was wearing a hoodie under a leather, shearling bomber jacket that looked frighteningly expensive. Also, his face was sleep-soft and endearing, like he’d just woken up from a nap. It wasn’t fair how good he looked, was it? Louis was so caught up in it, he almost didn’t notice that one of the people heading his way was Landon.

Louis’ smile started to slip, but he forced it back up.

“No, my other boyfriend,” Harry joked, which caused them both to pause and cringe.

“Ha-ha,” Louis deadpanned in an effort to smooth over the tasteless joke. He stood there breathless as Harry approached and encroached on his personal space. Fluid and effortless, Harry’s movements appeared familiar, as if he’d been doing this for years. He reached out to cup the back of Louis’ neck—and pulled him in for a hello kiss.

It was for the benefit, or torment, of Landon. But after what happened this morning, Louis couldn’t help himself from feeling swept up in it, in Harry.

His lips were tingling when Harry pulled away and had yet to remove his hand from his neck.

“You left without saying goodbye this morning.”

Well, that was the understatement of the century. It was mostly a joke, tinged with bravado, but his eyes were searching as he scanned Louis’ face in pursuit of something wrong. His hand slid down his neck in favor of rubbing his back.

“I had… a thing… I had to do…”

“And did you do it?”

Louis nodded slowly, captivated by Harry’s eyes.

“And everything is okay now?”

He nodded again. He knew he wasn’t acting very boyfriend-y right now, but he couldn’t help it.

“Okay, good. So I was thinking, since you don’t have anymore classes today, do you want to go to the library with me? Well, with us, really. Coach cancelled practice today ‘cause so many people are sick.”

“Oh, okay.” Louis’ eyes flickered between Harry and Landon and the rest of the group. He wasn’t very certain, but Harry looked genuinely hopeful, and no one in the universe could say no to a face like that. “Um, sure.” He turned to Liam and Zayn. “Do you guys wanna come too?”

They waved him off, effectively leaving Louis on his own. “Nah, you go ahead.” Louis stuck his tongue at them, and Liam only winked.

Which was how Louis found himself sitting at a study table in the library with what felt like half the rugby team, which also happened to be half of the Phi Kappa Alpha fraternity. Two of the guys played a game of table football with a tiny projectile made out of a balled up piece of paper, but other than that, they were quiet. Harry sat intentionally close to Louis, way closer than any normal person would sit next to a person, almost touching but not quite. He took notes on a chapter in his abnormal psychology textbook as Louis parsed through countless sources to create the argument for his upcoming essay.

Usually when Louis did schoolwork, he sequestered himself away in a deserted corner of the library, usually leaning hidden in a nook no one new about, or leaning against the window. He hadn’t realized what he was missing out on the whole time, how nice it was to be close to someone else yet still be quiet and concentrated. Harry radiated warmth and he smelled good and he was incredibly distracting, but also comforting. Sometimes he would pass Louis a stick of gum, or ask him if he wanted a mug of tea from the dining hall, or even offer one of his earbuds so they could listen to a specific song together. All in all, it was nice.

Louis was glad Harry didn’t have an opportunity to directly inquire about what happened this morning. From the looks of it, he was in the clear; soon Harry would forget it ever happened. Surely Louis wasn’t the first person to share a bed with him and surely he wouldn’t be the last. It was no big deal at all. Louis would just have to cringe for the rest of eternity when thinking about how he subconsciously wandered closer to Harry in the middle of the night until he was full-on clinging to him. The point was, the flight to Mongolia was looking less and less necessary by the hour. Maybe Harry hadn’t even realized Louis was hard.

“Oh my god, I need a break. I’m so exhausted, my eyes are burning,” Harry groaned in a whisper to maintain the library-quiet, tipping his head to rest it on Louis’ shoulder. Because yes, they were sitting close enough for him to do this without any strain. It was around 10:00 PM and aside from taking an hour-long break for dinner which mostly involved Louis being even shyer than usual at a table full of frat guys and a few of their girlfriends, they had been in the library all afternoon and all evening.

Louis, who was finally in the groove of writing his essay, already three pages in and there was no going back, shifted his position so it was more comfortable to rest against him. “Take a break, then. Take a nap.”

Harry blinked owlishly at him. “Will you wake me up in thirty minutes?”

“Sure, yeah.” He checked the clock to memorize the time when he would have to wake him. “Are you comfortable?”

Harry had since rubbed his cheek against the sleeve of Louis’ t-shirt and nuzzled into his shoulder. “Yeah, very. Are you?”

“Mhm,” Louis confirmed in a hum, still typing away. All of Harry’s teammates and fraternity brothers had since left the study table, trickling out one by one as they either finished their work or got bored. Landon had only stayed a total of two hours, glaring at Louis and Harry equally from across the table, and barely containing a scoff whenever Harry would do something sweet like help Louis come up with a synonym for a word he needed in his essay. Louis was glad Landon was jealous, and possibly experiencing some sort of regret at wronging Louis, but Louis had to admit he wasn’t even interested in it anymore.

There was a point where he paused, and sat there, staring at the blinking cursor on his screen. Wondering why he was doing this, why Harry was doing this, why Landon was doing this, why any of them were even in this situation in the first place. He bit his lip, and squinted at the cursor. The cursor had no answers for him. It only continued to blink.

“Thirty minutes,” Harry murmured, already drifting.

Things had been weird lately, but Louis’ life was always weird, so it wasn’t out of the norm. So Louis continued writing an essay as perhaps the sweetest paradox of a boy fell asleep against his shoulder. Hence, the start of an unlikely friendship.

  
  
  
  
  


**XIII.**

October passed in the same blur as always, a whirlwind of fallen leaves and electric energy, a million different things demanding the attention all at once. The weekends before and after Halloween were dedicated to costume parties and autumn-themed events, so by the time it was over, after his fourth event that required a costume, Louis was officially Halloweened out. The work in his classes picked up, and the days got shorter and colder, and the agreement with Harry continued. As did the friendship.

That Thursday night, the same week as the intimate dream that changed everything, Louis brought Harry to his first Prism meeting. After that, it became a regular occurence, and Louis had to remind himself that the pride he felt at seeing Harry quickly become a part of the on-campus community, already taking on multiple service projects after only being a part of the organization for a few days, was unfounded. By the third week, Harry was talking animatedly with everyone at the meetings, almost more present than Louis himself, who was the literal president of the organization. Each meeting consisted of a short presentation about a specific topic to educate the group, then there was time designated to planning events and working on their current projects, and finally they always left at least fifteen minutes to discuss their lives and rant if they needed to. The meetings often turned into impromptu group therapy sessions and Louis loved it, loved how strong the community was on campus and how much they felt like a family.

In other news, ever since that first night at Phi Kapp, helping Rickie with the assignment for his Japanese class, Harry had taken to calling Louis “satsumaimo” or variations of the term. At first he did it because it bugged Louis, who wasn’t a fan of being made fun of, and also wasn’t a fan of being called “sweet potato” in any language. However, he eventually became desensitized to it, and Harry started saying it less as a joke and more out of habit, and it stuck. So was the business of nicknames.

It had the dual purpose of serving as an inside joke, and all Harry had to do was call Louis “satsumaimo” or “my little sweet potato” in a sickly sweet voice for Landon to turn around and walk in the opposite direction. Which was to say, it served its purpose.

So Louis kept hanging out around Harry, and Harry kept kissing him chastely whenever Landon was around, like he was proving a point. They did have a fake relationship to act out, after all, but sometimes it felt uncomfortably like Harry was marking his territory. There was definitely a pissing contest between Harry and Landon to determine who was the manlier man, or whatever, which made Louis roll his eyes every time he was reminded of it.

Pissing contest aside, Louis really liked Harry. Not just in a romantic way, as his dream forced him to realize, but in every way. He was so funny and stupid and kind. And genuine. Achingly genuine.

After a few weeks, they got into the groove of getting lunch together between classes, or studying in the library together when their schedules matched up. It wasn’t that they planned these times to hang out, but rather that Harry would already have a table in the dining hall when Louis arrived, and he would wave him over to join him, or Louis would find Harry in the library and take the seat next to him. The only activities they planned were the evenings Louis would spend at the Phi Kapp house, when Harry knew for a fact that Landon would also be there.

It was always at least a little awkward due to the high tensions within the fraternity ever since Harry came out. That, mixed with Landon’s standoffish behavior, and Harry’s defiant insistence to kiss Louis at every turn, made the casual gatherings much more volatile. It was always lowkey, with Louis hanging around the kitchen as Harry tried to perfect his brownie recipe, or the two of them watching a movie together on the couch. Harry’s position as president made it so that he sometimes had to leave abruptly to resolve an argument between brothers or hold impromptu meetings that delegated new tasks and set new rules. Whenever Harry left him alone, Louis took it upon himself to get to know the other members of Phi Kappa Alpha. They weren’t the people he would gravitate towards in a crowded room, but he was quickly finding that a lot of them were good people, and it was a shame he would’ve overlooked them.

The first week of November, Louis bundled up to skate through the cold weather to one of the cottages that held classes on the perimeter of campus. There was a poetry reading in one of the classrooms, and Louis had been looking forward to it all day.

He was accustomed to attending events like these alone. Louis had yet to befriend many people who shared his specific interests, which included attending academic discussions and poetry reading in his free time. But he loved the comfort of closing his eyes and listening to an author read their work. In the beginning, he had tried to get Landon to go, but he was never enthused and Louis didn’t want to force him to do something he clearly didn’t want to do.

Louis arrived ten minutes before the event would start. The second-floor classroom was half full, with various people spread out across the comfortable seating choices. Someone had pushed the desks to the perimeter while filling the center with mismatched furniture, like arm chairs, loveseats, and couches. Louis was about to take the comfy armchair in the corner when he noticed a familiar figure sprawled out across the loveseat by the fireplace.

He was partly lying down, with one boot-clad foot up on the cushion and the other with his toes grazing the floor. Slumped down, with his chin tucked to his chest, he concentrated on writing in the tattered journal in his hands. The coziness of his thick sweater and knit beanie combination made Louis stop and stare for a moment. His lips were pursed in a frown of concentration and he looked unfairly sweet.

“I didn’t know you went to these.”

Harry’s eyes flitted upwards. He slammed shut the journal in his hands and scrambled upright, pulling off his wide-framed tortoiseshell glasses. “Hi,” he breathed, shoving the glasses and the journal beneath his thigh. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Louis smiled sheepishly.

Louis watched him carefully fold his hands over his knees. Harry was skittish and more tense than his usual laid back demeanor. Not to mention, Louis wasn’t used to seeing him in a setting like this, in non-athletic clothes no less, so it was a lot to wrap his head around. His jeans had thin holes on the knees. A few curls escaped the knit beanie, framing his face. Even just those tiny chocolate curls were a sight to behold.

“I always want to come, but they usually schedule readings when I have rugby practice,” Harry explained. “Do you come a lot?”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. I try to go to as many as I can.”

Harry smiled at him. “Cool. Wanna sit with me?”

He removed his legs from the second half of the loveseat, making room for Louis to sit down. Louis was relieved to be on the side closest to the fire, because he really was freezing. Skating in the cold dark always chilled him to the bones. Sometimes it felt like the wind was blowing straight through him. He was already looking forward to going back to his dorm and taking a long hot shower.

“Also didn’t know you wear glasses.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m farsighted, so I only need them when I read.” His tone when sheepish.

Louis squinted at him. Was he blushing? It was hard to tell, but he thought he detected a slightly pinker tint to his cheeks.

“You haven’t worn them any of the times we’ve been in the library together,” Louis suspiciously pointed out. “Are you embarrassed by them or something?”

“What? No. They just pinch my nose.”

“Sure…”

“It’s true!”

“Put them on again,” Louis requested. It was partially a test to see if he was embarrassed, but also selfishly because Louis wanted to see him with them on again.

“What, why?”

Louis pouted, and blinked a few more times than necessary. “Please?”

Harry’s stony expression wavered. Then he sighed. “Fine, whatever.” After casting a glance to the side like he was paranoid someone would see him, he slid the glasses back on his face.

Louis smiled. “Sexy librarian.”

That startled a surprised laugh out of Harry. His cackle was so loud, people turned to look at the cause of the noise. It was a wonderful sound. He slapped a hand over his mouth, taking a moment to recover. There was a definite blush on his face now, rosy pink and so pleasing to look at. Finally, in an incredulous voice, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing.” Louis hadn’t meant to say that; it just slipped out of his mouth, the traitor. “Be quiet, she’s about to start.”

One of the speakers introduced the poet and her new chapbook, and then the poet began reading, and Louis had to sit there and dwell on the fact that he had inadvertently called Harry sexy. To his face. Louis also found it peculiar and interesting that Harry kept his glasses on, even though they must’ve been obscuring his vision. He tried not to overanalyze the reasons why.

It was easy to detach from himself and let the poet’s rhythmic words wash over him. With his eyes closed, he let his body sink into the loveseat cushions and the warmth emanating from the fire. The room was quiet aside from the reading, so that every shift was audible, every creak or pop of the old classroom, every crackle of the fire, every steady breath of Harry beside him. Time trickled on. For the next hour, the room was wholly lost in the world created by the poet.

  
  
  
  
  


**XIV.**

Things changed after the poetry reading. Louis wasn’t sure what it was, but something about sharing that moment with Harry brought them even closer together. Maybe it was the shared experience of absorbing the poet’s words, or maybe it was the simple act of sharing the loveseat and being close to each other in such a casual way. The fire was warm and the night was sleepy and Louis wanted, more than anything, to slot himself up against Harry and rest his head on his shoulder.

Afterwards, Harry offered to walk him back to his dorm. Louis didn’t know what to make of that, but he tucked his skateboard under his arm and accepted. Harry said he liked going for walks at night and Louis wasn’t about to question that. The night was cold and clear, moonless, and the stars shimmered above them, twinkling through the tree branches now mostly void of leaves. It smelled like autumn and fire and fresh air, and when Louis got too close to Harry he could catch a whiff of his vanilla cologne.

They talked about the poetry reading and their classes and the movies they’d seen recently. Louis laughed at Harry admitting he watched Eat, Pray, Love last night instead of going to a party, and then backtracked when he noticed Harry’s hurt expression.

“I don’t mean it like that!” Louis rushed to explain. “It’s, like, oddly endearing that you love romance movies so much. I’m not trying to be judgemental. I like them too. You know I do.”

“No, I know that. Sorry. I’m just used to people making fun of me for that.”

Louis sucked in a sharp breath. “Right.” He felt bad, like sometimes he was grouping Harry in with everyone else. From a distance, he looked like a stereotypical frat guy, athletic and kind of an asshole with a superiority complex. Louis knew handfuls of frat guys who fit the mark, like Landon for example, but Harry wasn’t one of them.

“You were so surprised that I was attending a poetry reading by choice, too.”

Louis grimaced. “Sorry. I guess I just thought you would think it was lame. And pointless. And that you had better things to do.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Landon always told me-” He stopped abruptly.

A gust of air filled the silence, but it wasn’t enough. He had no idea why his mind was going there, but more often than not, it was Landon’s voice that tainted his own thoughts.

“He would say shit like that to you?” Harry asked. He was no longer walking anymore, but standing still on the sidewalk, framed by the dark forest. His voice held more anger than Louis had ever heard from him before.

“No,” Louis rushed. He hated when this happened, when he said things about what happened with Landon and then people worried about him. His quota of being worried about was already surpassed by Liam and Zayn, months ago. He didn’t need to be babied by another person too. “It’s fine. Forget I said that.”

“Louis-”

“No, stop. It’s fine. Let’s not talk about it.” He started walking away, giving Harry no choice but to catch up.

Harry grumbled something under his breath, kicking a stone and sending it sailing down the street and ricocheting off the sidewalk. Louis removed his hands from his pockets to blow his breath on them, in a feeble attempt to bring some feeling back.

“What was that?” he inquired, not sure if he actually wanted to know.

“I just think you deserve better, that’s all.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m being serious.”

Louis shook his head, smiling into his hands, and kept walking. It felt like his dorm was so far away from everything. He felt bad for Harry who had to walk all the way back to the Phi Kapp house after this.

“You are such a freeze baby, satsumaimo.”

“Shut up, it’s  _ cold  _ outside.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Give me your hands.” He didn’t even wait for Louis to react before pulling his hands away from his mouth and squeezing them in his own. Like everything else about him, his hands were big and all-encompassing, dwarfing Louis’ own. It was an awkward position, but somehow they managed to walk all the way back to Louis’ dorm like that.

“All right, well. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Harry nodded, still holding Louis’ hands and swinging them back and forth. “I have a game at six, if you want to come?”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Bundle up, ‘cause I’ll be too busy to warm you up.”

“Fair enough,” Louis laughed.

There was a pause, and then finally Harry dropped his hands. The reluctance to his movements was clear, but Louis was begging himself not to look too much into it. He’d already spent two years of his life thinking Landon cared about him way more than he actually did; he didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

“Please don’t die on your way back.”

“I won’t,” Harry smiled, the dimple in his cheek digging a deep crevice. “I’ll text you when I get back, so you know I made it.”

“I expect no less.”

“See you tomorrow, satsu.”

“See you.”

  
  
  
  
  


**XV.**

Big surprise, Louis froze his ass off at Harry’s game. Despite bundling himself in copious layers that included leggings, sweatpants, a long-sleeve shirt, a sweater, a hoodie, and two pairs of fuzzy socks, all beneath his rain jacket and a blanket, he still couldn’t feel his fingers or toes halfway through the match. Liam and Zayn were spending the day in the city to explore some different art museums, and Niall was away at a golf tournament in Virginia or somewhere, so Louis sat alone in the bleachers and screamed his head off for Paramount to win.

They did win, in a glorious last minute play. Louis was one of the first people to rush down to the edge of the field, swept up in the good feelings and celebration.

He made eye contact with Harry across the field and smiled wide, waving at him. He wasn’t expecting Harry to drop his gear and run to him.

“You won!” Louis cheered as he approached, waving his hands while also being conscious of making sure his blanket didn’t fall into the mud. “You played so well!” After a month of watching the games and practices, Louis had acquired a firm grasp on the rules of rugby, and what a good game looked like. What a good player looked like. Harry was one of them.

Harry smiled wide and then swept him up in his arms, off his feet. The world tilted and Louis gasped from surprise, his hands immediately clinging to Harry’s shoulders for fear of being dropped. But Harry didn’t waver as he held Louis off the ground with one arm around his waist, crushing him in a dramatic, energetic hug. It was too tight to breathe, but Harry’s excitement was contagious, making him feel over the moon, so he didn’t even mind. Harry finally set him down on the ground again, but they were still so close, and the world was rushing and loud around them.

“Wow, I love the enthus-”

There was no time to even process what was happening. Harry grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him hard.

Louis stared at him with wide eyes, breathless and panting, when he finally pulled away. His heart was beating so fast in his chest and he could feel his face heating up in a bright blush.

Harry’s cheeks were ruddy too, from playing a match in the cold and running around and kissing Louis. His eyes were bright, his lips kiss-bitten and shiny with saliva.

“Sorry, satsu, Landon was looking.”

“Oh,” Louis breathed. He didn’t see Landon anywhere. “Good thinking.”

“The team is gonna get dinner to celebrate the win. Do you wanna come?”

Louis was still stunned from the passionate way Harry kissed him, and he was still a little dizzy from it if he was being honest, knees threatening to buckle. He struggled to focus on a coherent, logical thought. “I dunno, Harry. Won’t it be weird if I go?”

“A lot of the guys are bringing their girlfriends. Besides, I want you there.”

“Well, okay, sure.” How was he supposed to argue with that?

Louis waited while Harry and his teammates showered and gathered their belongings back in the locker room. They met up thirty minutes later in the parking lot to carpool to the bar. Which was how Louis ended up in the backseat of some random rugby player’s car,  _ squeezed between Harry and Landon. _

He wasn’t even sure how it worked out like that, but here he was. It was unfortunate. He folded his hands in his lap after awkwardly asking Landon to move out of the way so he could click his seatbelt into place. Meanwhile, Harry sat uncharacteristically silent on his other side, glaring out the window.

“Wow, the tension is palpable,” the guy who was driving remarked, five silent, stilted minutes into their twenty minute drive.

“Let’s just not acknowledge it,” Louis suggested. The driver and his girlfriend sitting shotgun both snickered.

Out of the blue, Harry said, “Hey, satsu, you should stay over tonight.”

“Um, sure.” Insinuating they were supposedly going to have sex tonight, right in front of Landon, was a bold move. Not that they were exactly going to have sex, but still. The whole point of this agreement in the first place had been to make Landon jealous, but Louis was ashamed to admit they’d lost sight of that goal over the past month. Or, at least, Louis had lost sight of that goal. Harry was the one who was constantly reminding him of it, not in his words but in his actions, amping it up, doing crazier and crazier things just to get a reaction.

Revenge was sweet, but it never failed to leave a bitter taste in Louis’ mouth. It didn’t help that he hated confrontation and usually tried to avoid it at all costs. Yet it was in those moments when Louis saw Landon around campus, flirting with random girls and even some boys too, people much different from Louis in many different ways, that the bad feelings came back and all he wanted to do was prove that he was okay, too. That he was worthy and he had someone who desired him, even if it was all a lie.

Harry was good about that. Harry was good at putting on a show and demonstrating to whoever was watching that Louis had someone who desired him, someone who cared about him. He was a good actor and Louis was sure if he was an outsider, even he would be jealous of whoever was in his place. Harry was the one who made everything seem sweet and momentous and full of love. He would be a good boyfriend to someone someday, when all of this was over and he was made available again. Actually, Louis was surprised people weren’t jumping at the opportunity to get with him, before Louis came into the picture and messed it all up. Harry was that perfect kind of person you could only ever dream of dating. Sometimes he seemed less like a human being and more like a mirage.

“Gross,” Landon muttered, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand and interlaced their fingers, going back to staring out the window at the passing houses. Louis wasn’t sure if he was doing it just because, or if he remembered Louis admitting he’d never really held anyone’s hand before for real. Either way, the touch made his skin tingle and his heart jump hoops in his chest.

Somehow they survived the drive, though it felt like the longest car ride in Louis’ twenty-one years of life. The few snappy comments from both Landon and Harry made Louis feel like he was an island floating between the boundary of two turbulent oceans, and he was too insignificant to bridge the gap. Over the past month, Louis had managed to squeak a few more details out of Harry as to why he disliked Landon so much, but what it really came down to was that they were very different people who happened to share some of the same interests, which put them in the same situation but at odds with each other almost all the time. There were obviously hard feelings between them since the brothers of Phi Kapp elected Harry for president instead of Landon, but the rivalry between them was much older than that, before Louis had even met either of them. So, at this point, Louis was beginning to question if the fake relationship as a means of revenge meant more to Harry than it did to Louis.

The rugby team was raucous and rowdy inside the bar, but their spirits were high, so it was a good time. Louis had become more familiar with them over the past month, and he was proud of himself for making some new friends. He always felt a little strange in these situations, like people were wondering who the shy English history major was and why he was here in the first place, but for the most part he’d managed to overcome those insecurities. Sure, some of the guys teased him for being quiet, non-athletic, or just very different from the rest of them, but it was mostly in good fun. Harry must’ve said something to them after the first few times, because they treated him with respect. Louis had learned time and time again that when Harry spoke, people listened.

Currently, he was kicking ass and taking names in a game of pool. It was one of his more useless skills, acquired over summers spent bored with his friends in his hometown in Georgia, but it came in handy at times like this. People always underestimated him. Hell, sometimes Louis even underestimated himself. But he had won the last three rounds he’d played, and people were gathering around the table just to watch.

He made four shots in a row, and then potted the eight-ball on the fifth, effectively and effortlessly winning the game. He took a sip of his beer as the crowd around him roared in celebration.

He was already tipsy from the drinks Harry had been plying him with throughout dinner, which consisted of spicy wings and french fries and free-flowing alcohol, but it was the kind of tipsiness that improved his coordination rather than worsened it. The guys around him that had been invested in the game and impressed by Louis’ skill starting setting up tasks for him to complete on the billiard table. They set up obstacles and challenges and Louis had fun completing each of them, especially as they became more and more ridiculous.

Louis was in the middle of setting up an impossible shot that involved jumping the ball over a row of three and ricocheting it off three different walls of the table in order to hit the target, when Harry wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him away. The crowd around him booed in disappointment that they wouldn’t get to witness the impossible shot. Harry flipped them off while Louis just laughed and blew a kiss, letting himself be whisked away.

“What are you doing?”

Louis found himself coaxed up against the wall in the darker, calmer corner. Or maybe propped up. It was possible he was drunker than he originally thought. It felt nice to sway, but it felt even nicer to be held up against the wall with Harry’s thighs pressing into his own. Harry had nice thighs.

“Playing pool,” he finally answered with a lopsided smile. “What are you doing?”

“Wondering what other secret talents you’ve kept hidden from me.”

“Not a secret. You never asked.”

Harry rolled his eyes teasingly, resting his arm on the wall beside Louis’ head. He smelled like beer too, but the good kind, like craft beer made specifically for autumn, probably with something like crimson and amber trees printed on the label. Louis was a bit too entranced by the sight of his face so close. His skin was getting paler by the day, now that summer was over and autumn was coming and going, winter ready to settle in. His lips were pink and full, plump and pillowy and he knew from a decent amount of hands on experience how soft they actually were.

Louis liked his lips, and liked them even better when they were pressed against his own. Or maybe in other places too.

“Are you a lightweight, Louis Tomlinson?”

He stuck his tongue out at him, possibly proving his point. It got a deep laugh out of him though, one of those warm pleasant sounds like hearing your favorite album on a record player for the first time, so it was worth it.

Harry’s one arm was still around his waist and he seemed to realize it at the same time as Louis, letting it drop awkwardly to his side. Louis wanted to tell him that he didn’t mind, but even in his drunken state he knew he would regret those words later, out of the embarrassment of revealing his own feelings for someone who only thought of him as a friend. Well, maybe…

“Harry, I don’t mind.”

“Hmm?”

Louis lightly touched his arm at the elbow, unintentionally sliding his fingers down his inner wrist in a way that was more sensual than he originally intended. He grabbed hooked his fingers onto Harry’s in a playful manner, holding them hostage. “I know you want to. You can. It’s okay,” he encouraged, boldly guiding his hands to his waist. The power of inebriation.

Harry surprised Louis by not hesitating. He hands settled on his hips like they belonged there, slipping beneath his many layers of clothes to get to bare skin. Louis probably looked like a marshmallow, but he was cold, all right, and none of it mattered anyway when Harry was still staring at him like this, with that look in his eyes, marshmallow or not.

“So you’re okay with this,” Harry checked, with a stupid smile. He stroked his fingers up and down for emphasis, and the simple touch felt so good, Louis almost forgot to respond.

He nodded, standing there and letting Harry touch him. He wanted to say it was for Harry’s benefit, but that would be a lie, considering the warm pleasure that washed over him like being sprinkled in stardust.

Landon was around here somewhere, so they could always pass this off as them trying to make him jealous.

“Was there a purpose to dragging me over here, or were you just bitter I wasn’t devoting all of my attention to you like usual?”

“Maybe,” Harry hummed. “Or maybe I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble. Keep you from breaking something with the cue ball.”

“Sure,” Louis allowed, with a soft, polite smile that said he didn’t believe him one bit. As much fun as he’d had playing pool, he would choose to be here in this dark corner with Harry a million times over. “I like your friends, by the way.”

“Good. They like you too. They just think you’re the coolest little thing now that they know you can kick their asses in pool.”

“Not little,” Louis mumbled.

Harry pressed closer and used his grip on Louis’ waist as leverage to make sure there was no space between their bodies. “You sure about that?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Just because it was Harry pressing Louis into the wall this time, didn’t mean it couldn’t be the other way around in the future. If there was a future. Now was not the time to be considering the longevity of such activities. If it was a fluke, Louis would just have to deal with it. Pick himself up like he had done before and deal with it. “Am I still coming over tonight?”

“If this isn’t clear enough of an answer,” Harry whispered, hot breath tickling his ear. He grinded forward, sharing the heady pressure between the two of them, and they both began to lose themselves in pleasure for a moment. “Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“All right, well, it doesn’t hurt to check.” So they were really doing this. Now was not the time and place for Louis to come to terms with the fact that Harry was  _ hard _ and also pressing into him so he could  _ feel it  _ and Louis was trying very hard to keep himself upright rather than  _ melting into a puddle on the floor. _

“You’re so sweet,” Harry sighed, tipping his head forward to hide his face against his neck. “How are you so sweet?”

Louis flushed, and covered up his own shyness by wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Apparently this was a thing that was happening now. It was his inclination to be nervous and insecure, always doubting himself, especially after Landon burned him, but just the mere fact of Harry’s presence was comforting. Harry was here and he was being bold with what he wanted and there was nothing for Louis to worry about.

Sometimes it seemed like Harry was doing all of the things, and Louis wanted to be the one to give him something this time

He curled his fingers in his hair and kissed just beneath his ear. Then he took his time down his neck. It was intimate, but he reasoned the dark corner offered concealment and privacy, so it was fine. Besides, neck kisses were amazing and Louis wanted to share the experience. Harry’s skin was smooth and soft and warm in the crook of his neck, and sensitive too, because when Louis kissed him there his fingers clutched tighter at his waist, and he let out this little breath of air like he had been holding it for a while now.

Was this a bad idea? Maybe. Louis had no idea what Harry expected and they were both drunk and maybe hooking up wasn’t the smartest move right now, given that their newfound friendship was a pure thing Louis liked to hold in the palm of his hand and examine from time to time. Not to mention how it was complicated, although it didn’t have to be, did it? This felt good; they were both into it. Louis, for once in his life, was not going to analyze the situation to death.

He wanted to suck a mark into the pale plinth of flesh, but figured he should ask permission before doing something drastic. For now, soft kisses peppered down his throat, grazing his teeth and sucking lightly would be more than enough. Harry slumped into him and Louis was happy to hold his weight.

“You okay there?” Louis finally whispered after covering the full expanse of skin and getting the pleasure of Harry’s affected breathing and quiet hums in his ear. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, especially when he saw Harry’s blissed out smile too.

“Mm, I’m doing great, would be even better if we were in my room right now though.” Murmured against his collarbone from where his head was tipped forward, his words caused Louis to flush to the core just thinking about it.

He rubbed his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone, back and forth, and cradled his head against his shoulder. “I think we can stick it out for a little longer.” Afterall, they were without a mode of transportation. “Then we can go back to yours and do whatever you want.”

“Whatever you want, too,” he murmured.

It was a promise more than anything. Louis didn’t know what to do with it, with the shimmering feeling of falling stars all throughout his body. Pleasure was like that. It crackled and glimmered and promised. Louis kissed Harry’s neck one last time and then slipped out from Harry’s hold, putting some space between them.

“Come find me when you’re ready to leave.”

He blew a kiss and walked back to the pool table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The crowd cheered at his reappearance, someone handing him a pool stick and others hyping him up for a new challenge. He cast a glance back at Harry to see him staring, heavy-lidded, lips parted.

All in all, it was a good time.

  
  
  
  


**XVI.**

The amount of times he had entered this room did nothing to change the fact that it felt different this time. It was a long hike up the three flights of stairs, passing Harry’s brothers rooms, and walking down the final hallway with purpose.

It was the same because he had done this before, many times over the past few weeks. He’d been hanging out with Harry a lot, watching movies on his laptop while huddled together in bed, or listening to his favorite records while sprawled out on the floor. Sometimes Louis would come over just to do homework at Harry’s desk while Harry took a nap after practice or did homework himself. Sometimes Harry would be writing an essay or studying for one of his many psychology exams, and Louis would pursue his bookshelf and select something to read while he waited for Harry to finish. Sometimes they would curate a new “baby-making” playlist and jump on the bed for an hour just for the off chance that Landon would notice and get pissed that Louis was seemingly getting some from his wonderful, lovely, _ committed _ boyfriend.

It was different because Louis had never entered this room before with the intentions of actual getting some.

They held hands the whole way up, instigated by Harry who interlaced their fingers without hesitation as soon as they were out of the car. They didn’t speak, but the nervous energy between them was palpable, full of excitement and electricity. Louis was so fucking cold from the weather and being outside for the majority of the day, and he couldn’t stop shivering, contributing to the full body vibration he was currently experiencing. Meanwhile, Harry was characteristically calm and collected.

They entered the room and Louis took a few steps towards the center while Harry closed the door behind them and turned the lock in place.

Harry kissed his cheek as he walked past him. “Come sit on the bed?”

He obliged, sitting on the edge and folding his hands in his lap as he watched Harry move around the room. He turned off the overhead light and turned on the fairy lights around his bed, lit two candles on the nightstand (vanilla and pine), and picked a record from his collection. Louis smiled as the warm music swooned into the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of distortion. He opened the windows halfway, allowing the cold air from outside to blow in along with the sounds of the wind and the nighttime.

“Nice,” Louis complimented, when Harry finally returned to him, standing between his legs.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

“I agree. Caring about the ambiance, very sexy of you.”

He grinned. “Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“Kiss me,” Louis said softly.

There was no hesitation this time. Not a moment passed and their lips were attached, creating something sweeter and deeper. Louis already had a habit of running his fingers through Harry’s hair, and he acted on it now, getting tangled in the soft curls and losing himself too. They ended up lying horizontally with no recollection of the process, wrapped up in each other, not individuals anymore but a collective, a duality.

Louis rolled them over onto their sides and took the liberty of hooking his leg over Harry’s thigh in an effort to bring their bodies closer together, disappearing the space between them. It was hard to remember that this was real life, that this was happening right now and somehow the events of today had sequentially resulted in this moment.

They kissed for a long time. It was the kind of activity that Louis would be content to do forever. Harry’s hands were so gentle on him and his lips were soft. He was languid and sweet but there was so much heat behind his actions, so much passion when he tilted Louis’ chin or stroked his side or rutted their hips together.

The sweetest thing was when Harry nudged him on his back and grabbed his hands, entangling their fingers. They kissed like that, and then he helped Louis out of the multitude of layers he was still wearing. He had managed to shed a few earlier, but it was Harry who finally peeled him out of his last t-shirt, discarding it to the floor.

“Holy shit, look at you…”

“Fair is fair,” Louis whispered, tugging at Harry’s hem. He needed to equalize the playing field, lest he wanted to burn to flames from how much he was blushing at the undivided attention.

Harry hastily removed his own shirt, tossing it to the side and resuming staring at Louis in what appeared to be awe. Louis felt much of the same. He ran his fingers over Harry’s chest and tummy, over all the tattoos he had no idea existed up until this point. They were so idiosyncratic and so Harry.

One of the things he had missed about being intimate with different people was learning the little things that made them tick. Everyone was different and for Louis, nothing was more enjoyable than discovering the hidden pathways to their pleasure. By accident, he brushed his knuckle against Harry’s nipple and watched with wide eyes as it resulted in a full body shiver.

“ _ Oh, _ that’s a thing…” He grinned to himself, brushing his fingers over it again and noting Harry’s sharp intake of breath. “We can definitely have fun with that.”

“God, okay,” Harry exhaled.

“I prefer Louis, actually.”

His head tipped forward, forehead resting on Louis’ bare shoulder “I can’t believe we’re both half naked and you just made that joke.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he rubbed with both thumbs now, making them hard and pebbled. It was a pleasing sight and an even better feeling. “Let me make it up to you?”

“No.”

Louis stopped abruptly. “No?”

“No, I mean, yes, but, I want to go first.”

He trailed his fingers over Harry’s shoulders, giving them both a moment to think. The record warbled on and the wind breezed in from the open windows, dancing around them. The atmosphere Harry had created with the candles and the windows and the music was sweet, tender, the kind of setting Louis always imagined for moments like this but thought was only fiction. He took a steadying breath, letting it fan out on Harry’s skin. “Go first as in..?”

“Want my mouth on you.”

Louis’ eyes widened. “Oh. Really?”

Harry paused, brows furrowing. “What do you mean, ‘really’?”

“Umm.” Now was not the time for Louis to recount the weird mind games Landon had played with him over oral sex. Apparently in his thoughts it was something Louis should do for him all the time but only something he would reciprocate occasionally… and by occasionally, he meant once in a blue moon, if Louis was lucky. Louis understood that different people had different boundaries during sex and he always, always respected them, but there was nothing to get him to ignore the strange, uncomfortable power dynamic between him and Landon and how that played out in their physical interactions. Now was absolutely not the time to be thinking about Landon’s refusal to give Louis a blowjob even when he heavily encouraged the reverse, though. “Let’s not worry about that now, okay? I think we’re doing too much talking and not enough other things.”

Harry frowned at him, and Louis tried to kiss it away.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“Okay,” Louis murmured against his lips in a sigh. The anxiousness brought on by their future conversation disappeared when Harry’s hand cupped his crotch, adding gentle pressure. He arched into the touch, back rising off the mattress, one hand gripping the sheets for purchase.

“I know you said no more talking, but I just need to tell you that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Louis closed his eyes and whispered, “Harry. If you’re going to say things like that, then I definitely don’t mind the talking.”

“Good.”

Kisses trailed from his neck all the way down to the waistband of his pants. Harry sucked a hickey on his hip, nibbling at the tender skin and blowing cool air over it, running his tongue over the goosebumps that resulted. Louis propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch, because Harry was the most beautiful person in the world and the way he kissed at Louis’ skin so reverently made an even prettier sight. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it was.

“I’m wearing two pairs of pants so don’t make fun of me,” Louis warned when Harry hooking his fingers in the waistband of his sweats, inching them down.

He smirked into his thigh, rubbing his cheek there. “Freeze baby. I’ll keep you warm.”

“Okay, well, I’m not cold  _ now _ .”

Harry rubbed his hips and peeled away his sweats, leggings, and briefs. Louis was usually nervous the first few times he was naked with someone, but with Harry it was different. He only felt anticipation and the comfort of being touched like he was something special. Harry wrapped a hand around him and stroked slowly, only thumbing the tip after the dozenth time and that was when Louis had to fight to keep still, fingers twisting into the sheets. His legs squeezed together on their own accord, but Harry pried them open again, using his shoulders to keep them that way.

“Talk me through it? Tell me if I’m doing something you like or don’t like?”

“Okay, yeah, of course,” Louis breathed, struggling through words now, because Harry had set his mouth around the tip and he was all wet, humid heat, all slippery pressure and pleasure. “Oh shit. Fuck, oh god.” He usually didn’t swear during sex, but here he was, the praises spilling out of his mouth. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Harry sank deeper and blinked up at him, lips stretching, mouth full. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him as Louis stared back. Lashes fluttering, pale green eyes that reflected the universe.

“Beautiful,” Louis whispered. He traced his jaw with his fingers and then tangled his fingers in Harry’s hair, smiling at how the simple gesture made Harry happy.

It was difficult to stay propped up on one elbow but there was no way he was going to miss this moment by staring at the ceiling instead. Just the image of Harry lying between his legs was enough to fuel Louis’ fantasies for the rest of forever. Broad shoulders and the stretches of sinewy muscles of his back, eccentric tattoos traversing smooth skin, fluttering eyelashes and shimmery green eyes—all of these aspects made it impossible for Louis to tear his gaze away.

“Fuck, look at you. Look at you…”

  
  
  
  


**XVII.**

Knowing Harry was the kind of person who passed out after an orgasm was something Louis never considered he would one day know. The room was quiet now, sounds of pleasure replaced with sounds of sleep. When Louis focused on the warm puffs of breath from Harry’s nose, which he felt because his face was buried in the crook of Louis’ hip, he found a rhythm to them and unintentionally matched it to his own breathing.

The room was cold from the open windows, but warm from sharing body heat. Louis was perfectly content. He was currently propped up against the pillows with Harry curled up at his love bite laden hips. After Harry had given him what was quite literally the best blowjob of his life, Louis had returned the favor and then had the sheer pleasure of cuddling him to sleep. Louis’ jaw was already sore but he would not trade that for the world. He traced his fingers very lightly over the lines of Harry’s back, observing the small movements of his ribcage with each breath.

He was sitting here because he couldn’t fall asleep. He couldn’t fall asleep because he couldn’t  _ let _ himself fall asleep.

This was his least favorite part of the night. When he had to get dressed and head back to his own room. His body was calling for him to stay right here and bask in this pure warmth and comfort, but he knew Harry wouldn’t want that. It would be much easier if he left now, saving them both the awkwardness of the morning after.

The record was still spinning, and Louis knew he should move the needle, but he didn’t want to get up just yet, for fear of disturbing Harry’s sleep. Comatose as he was, Louis had a feeling any small movement would wake him. So he didn’t move, aside from tracing invisible shapes along his spine with the pads of his fingers. If he was only going to get a moment, he was going to damn well enjoy it.

So he sat there. And thought about how much he liked Harry. And thought about how different he was from Landon, even though he didn’t mean to compare them. And thought about how he didn’t like Landon at all anymore and hadn’t liked him for months. It felt good to admit these things to himself in the dark, quiet spaces of the seconds that passed like molasses. Like a weight lifting off his shoulders, or crawling into bed after a long day, all of this was a relief.

He sighed, and stroked Harry’s hair. The thing was, he didn’t  _ want _ to leave. He didn’t want to make a run for it in the middle of the night and pretend this never happened. He didn’t want both of them to wake up alone and only have this night in their memories, soon to fade into oblivion.

He had to get up, though.

Maybe he could treat himself to a hot shower on his way out, as a consolation prize for this night that was sadly finite. A quick shower in the nice en suite that was a million times better than the communal showers back at Louis’ dorm.

He carefully extricated himself from Harry’s sleepy hold and crossed the room for the shower. The hot water loosened some of the tension in his muscles from stress. He’d already showered here once before, last week when he and Harry messed around with a soccer ball outside and Harry accidentally slide-tackled him, sending them both into the mud. Messy and cold, they trudged up the stairs to his room and Harry offered Louis the shower first, encouraging him to use the kiwi and aloe body wash because he thought he would like it. It was fruity and sweet and it smelled like Harry, so that was what Louis used tonight, taking the time to exfoliate and scrub his body clean.

He felt like a new person once he stepped out of the bathroom, glowing in the darkness. He finally removed the needle from its constant spin on the record, and cast a longing glance back at the bed as he began to pull on his clothes.

Harry was still sleeping soundly, his hands tenderly curled in front of his chest, sex hair obscuring part of his face. His expression was free from tension and it made him look younger in a way, or maybe just softer. His eyelids twitched a little like he was experiencing something in the dreamworld, which brought Louis back to the time they shared a bed and Louis’ own dreams betrayed him, changing his perspective on everything to do with Harry.

Harry’s brows furrowed in his sleep and Louis felt the distinct urge to kiss away the strain. Instead, he scanned the room for his shoes, trying to figure out where he discarded them mere hours ago.

“Lou,” Harry croaked.

Apparently Louis’ rustling had woken him. His voice was deep and shot from how he ended up deepthroating Louis like a champ, all messy and good.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Louis whispered. “I was just about to leave, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Harry pulled himself up on his elbows, rubbing his eyes. “It’s morning already? We have class soon?”

“What? No. It’s, like,” he checked his phone for the time. “Two in the morning.”

“...Then why are you leaving..?”

“Umm,” Louis was at a loss of words for what to say. He was glad for the darkness, but beating himself up for not sneaking out much quieter.

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . Did you think this was- I mean, did you think that I-” He stopped, looking frustrated with himself. He rubbed at his eyes again and then looked down. His tone was dejected when he finally settled on, “So I guess you’re leaving and we’re pretending this never happened.”

“I thought that was what you wanted?”

“Why would I want that?”

Louis stood there, helplessly confused. “I thought you would want me to leave so it would be less awkward in the morning. So you wouldn’t have to kick me out yourself, and also so you could get a full night’s sleep without me disturbing you..?”

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” Harry said slowly. “But I’d really like it if you stayed the night.”

“Oh,” well, talk about unexpected.

He ran his fingers over his lips, trying to decipher what was making him hesitate. He finally settled on an answer. Spending the night with Harry, if the emotions were one-sided and not reciprocated, kind of felt like taking advantage of him. Louis didn’t want to spend the night without making it clear where he stood, but that was easier said than done.

He closed his eyes and steeled away his courage. Then, he blurted out, “I have feelings for you.”

The room reverted to silence and Louis kept his eyes closed, expelling a deep sigh from his lungs. Surprisingly, it felt good to say it out loud. He was embarrassed, but at least he was brave about it.

“Satsumaimo,” Harry said.

Louis cracked his eyes open.

“Please, for the love of god, get back in bed with me right now.”

He followed his directions without thinking, letting Harry clasp his fingers on the back of his neck and pull him down into a deep, bruising kiss.

“God, I have feelings for you too,” Harry confirmed once they pulled away for air, pressing their foreheads together. Louis’ mind was swimming somewhere in the stars, but Harry’s words were grounding. “I would’ve told you so much sooner, but I couldn’t tell if you were still hung up on Landon or not.”

“I’m not. I’m not.”

“I know that now,” Harry smiled. “You’re so lovely,” he said softly.

“You too,” Louis sighed, kissing him again. His heart was beating fast, and even faster now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, that this sleepy, silly frat president in front of him liked him back. With their wandering hands, and arms wrapped around each other, their limbs were entangled and there was no point in the darkness where Louis ended and Harry began.

Their lips eventually detached, as they were content to just hold each other. Harry was still naked and throughout their impromptu makeout session, he had re-stripped Louis of the clothes he’d donned because he thought he was going to leave. No he was only in a pair of briefs and Harry inched those down his waist too, determined to maximize the skin on skin contact.

“I’m too tired to do anything else tonight, but… I want to feel you.”

So Louis kissed his cheek and let Harry remove them before he slotted his leg between Harry’s thighs. Warmth flooded through them at every point of contact and it felt like they were immune to the cold November air flowing in through the half open windows.

“When did you know?” Harry wondered, tracing his fingers over Louis’ cheek, his nose, his eye.

When did Louis know he had feelings for Harry? Emotions were ambiguous and tricky to pinpoint, but Louis knew he could identify the general timeline. He had always thought Harry was attractive, since that very first night, and he knew they had chemistry just from their heated kiss and the way Harry kept his hands on his lower back in a protective gesture when Landon started to attack him with his words. 

“I think it was when Liam told me about all the charity projects you lead for Phi Kapp,” Louis admitted, playing with Harry’s fingers. He recalled the day, almost exactly a month ago, when he had grilled Liam on everything he knew about Harry, demanding answers. One of the things Liam had told him was that Harry added a bunch of philanthropic projects to Phi Kappa Alpha’s legacy, working with local organizations. What really got to Louis was the fact that Harry organized a group of people to serve as math tutors at the elementary school just down the road from campus, because Louis volunteered as a reading tutor at that same school, and working with the first and second graders was one of the most life-changing activities he’d ever done.

“When was that?”

“Only a week after we met,” Louis whispered. “How about you?”

“I knew from the start,” he bragged, teasing.

“You did not.”

“I did!”

“How?”

Harry brushed Louis’ hair away from his face. “I just had this feeling about you. I mean, you are so shy but also brave enough to come up to me and kiss me without even asking,” he laughed, running his fingers through Louis’ hair again. “So beautiful too. Your eyes… And when you brought me coffee the morning we met up to discuss the plan. And when you came over that night and we laughed for like three hours straight because there you were, jumping on my bed and moaning like we were filming a porno. You’re so ridiculous and I adore that about you.”

“Oh god.” He pressed a giggle against Harry’s collarbone. “I was just being nice with the coffee!”

“I know, that was why I liked it so much. You’re such a sweetheart.”

“Well, okay.”

“You were also just so adorable and cranky that morning.”

“I hate getting up early.”

“I am quite aware. The good thing is we can sleep in tomorrow.”

The reminder that they were spending the night together and would wake up together flooded him with warmth. “Not gonna say no to that.”

“Good.” Harry kissed him softly. It was so tender.

They ended up staying awake way longer than they should’ve, talking about anything and everything. It was amazing to Louis because he had never felt like he knew someone as intimately as this, whispering about the world and their lives while cocooned in blankets and each other. They shared secrets and small honesties that seeped in between them like melty chocolate. They kissed and laughed and snuggled closer.

It was so late at night when they finally couldn’t keep their eyes open, and Harry rolled over onto his other side so that Louis could spoon him from behind (“Spoon me?”). Louis enjoyed slipping one arm beneath his neck and wrapping the other around his waist, pressing his hand to his chest, right where he could feel his heartbeat. Harry clutched Louis’ hand to his chest with both of his own hands and rubbed his cheek against Louis’ forearm. Louis had never cuddled with anyone like this before and it was so new and sweet, something he was quickly finding he wanted to do forever, until the end of time.

Harry fell asleep first and Louis followed not long after, relaxing into the steady cadence of his breathing.

  
  
  
  


**XVIII.**

Two days later, Louis was lying face down in Zayn’s bed. Sour gummy worms pelted him in the back every time he refused to answer a question. Zayn had good aim despite how unathletic he was. It was all in the flick of the wrist. Meanwhile Liam was doing push-ups on the floor because he was stressed for his upcoming final exams. They still had a few weeks to go, but apparently just the mention of them sent him spiralling. Louis was too distracted to feel the creeping stress and dread. It had only been two days since The Night and Louis was still riding that wonderful, sugary sweet wave of euphoria that came with a blossoming relationship.

“Why won’t you tell us how it happened,” Liam cried, out of breath, after the fourth time Louis refused to answer. A decent pile of sour gummy worms had accumulated in the dip of Louis’ lower back. He pressed his face into the pillow and muffled a scream.

“I seduced him with my pool skills.”

“You do tend to lean over the table more than you need to.”

“But we want details,” Liam tacked on.

Talking about The Night made Louis embarrassed, not because he was self-conscious about what had happened, but because he was shy about how much he liked Harry and he was scared the overwhelming, all-encompassing fondness would seep into his voice. Then again, he was talking to Liam and Zayn here, who were sometimes so sappy with each other it physically hurt to be near them without mentally planning their wedding.

“Harry told us what Landon said to you.”

“Oh,” Louis breathed, looking away. His body tensed against his will but he tried to play it off like everything was fine.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Covering his hands with his sleeves always made him feel better, but last week Zayn had pointed out that it was a nervous habit of his, so he avoided completing the action just in time, fingers twitching. “It wasn’t important.”

More than that, he knew Liam and Zayn would overreact, because they were so beautifully, fiercely loyal and Louis loved them for that, but sometimes he wanted them to leave the situation alone. Adding fuel to the fire would only make Landon more pissed and Louis knew that now. He no longer had any desire to create trouble. Even though he could remember the sensation of pain and jealousy when he saw Landon kissing that random girl at that party all those weeks ago, the feeling was now foreign to him, as if someone other than himself experienced it in the first place. That pain and longing that furled deep in his core was what had motivated him to act so rashly, quite literally acting out and kissing a stranger. Spurred on by alcohol and jealousy and the comfort of seeing another stranger with a rainbow bracelet, Louis had made a split-second decision that ended up being one of the best decisions of his life. It had only been a little more than a month, but he couldn’t remember what his life was like before Harry. Waking up in the morning and heading to the Phi Kapp house to pound on Harry’s door with a breakfast smoothie in hand. Running into him in the library and studying together at their favorite table near the science fiction section, where Harry would sometimes rest his head on Louis’ shoulder to take a twenty-minute nap. Passing him on his way to class and getting the pleasure of witnessing the big grin that always lit Harry’s face when he saw Louis. Having Harry pull him to his table in the dining hall, flawlessly integrating him into the conversation with his teammates or brothers so that Louis always felt accepted and included. Watching cheesy movies with him, laughing at silly jokes, and going on long car rides through the flat expanse of rural Indiana just to listen to music and scream the lyrics out the open window, feeling young and free.

All of this was so new and Louis loved it. After waking up two mornings ago, still wrapped around Harry and swathed in blankets, they bundled up in warm clothes and wandered downstairs to make breakfast. Harry liked to cook and Louis liked to watch him and offer help when he could. Harry said he wouldn’t mind teaching Louis and Louis agreed, because he was a senior in college, about to graduate, and it was about time he learned to cook without burning the whole place down.

Besides, there was something about spending time in the kitchen with Harry that made the world melt away. Harry talked him through the process, bacon sizzling in one pan, scrambled eggs in the other, with pancakes in the oven to keep them warm. Louis sliced fruit and set the table and boldly set his hands on Harry’s waist from behind, kissing his shoulder.

“So, this is a thing now?” Louis asked, just to be sure, when Harry relaxed against Louis’ chest, letting himself be held. It was a bold move when anyone could walk in, but Louis had been finding lately that Harry was getting more confident and caring less what other people thought of him. He had kissed Louis in front of half the school at his rugby match, after all.

“This is definitely a thing,” Harry confirmed with a soft sort of sigh that sounded pleased.

So Louis kissed all down his neck, softer than he’d ever been with anyone else before. He couldn’t help himself. Harry’s skin was smooth and soft, his reactions tender and expressive. He seemed to really like it, given the way he lifted his arm and reached back to run his fingers through Louis’ hair and hold him closer. Finally, he set the spatula down on the countertop and flipped around in Louis’ arms, attaching their lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was.

Unsurprisingly, Harry’s elbow ended up clipping one of the pans and sending it crashing to the floor. Half-cooked scrambled eggs were everywhere and they laughed so hard, they had tears in their eyes.

So things were good. Great, even. Louis was trying not to think about Landon because Landon ruined everything, and here he was, lying in Zayn’s bed, trying to scheme his way out of this unfortunate conversation.

“Louis, you know what he said to you isn’t true, right?”

“Yeah.” Louis took a deep breath. “Yeah.” He still had Landon’s voice in his head sometimes, nagging him or calling him names, saying mean things, trying to grow insecurities like weeds in the cracks of the sidewalk. In his heart, he knew the words Landon had said to him were lies, and that they held no meaning or importance to Louis now. Sure, he wasn’t a perfect human being, but he knew that Landon was the one who fucked up.

It helped that Harry ranted about this topic whenever it was brought up, listing off all the reasons why Louis was too good for Landon and why Landon was going to wish he never left him. Harry felt strongly about the topic and his insistence on making sure Louis knew he was too good for Landon was flattering and always made him blush.

“I’m fine,” Louis promised. “Really, I appreciate how much you care about me, and I know I worried you the past few months-” he cringed, thinking of the months spent depressed and isolated in his own room, refusing to do anything more than attend his classes and sleep, “-but I promise I’m okay now. Really.”

Liam, who had since finished his push-ups, deflated in relief. “We believe you, we really do,” he said. “It’s obvious how much happier you are now. And Harry’s a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Louis said into the pillow. “But it’s not just him. I would be this way without him too.” He knew the dangers of completely relying on another person to build his own self-confidence, and he was confident this time was much different. He had no unhealthy attachment to Harry; it was all just mutual feelings of adoration and desire that settled warm and happy in his heart.

Zayn threw another gummy worm at him, this time in praise. Louis sat up and popped it in his mouth. The three of them stared at each other.

“All right, fine, I’ll tell you the details,” he sighed with a grin, pretending to be put out. They all knew there was nothing he would enjoy more than gushing about Harry for the next hour.

  
  
  
  
  


**XIX.**

Harry had texted Louis earlier in the day, asking if he could come over in the evening to help him plan a joint fundraiser for Phi Kapp and Prism. It would be the first time the fraternity and the organization would be working together and they knew it was a big step in the right direction. Louis’ heart practically burst when Harry had asked him. So he texted yes, he would be there, and later that evening he skateboarded down to the Phi Kapp house and knocked on the door.

He hadn’t been able to spend more than a few minutes with Harry ever since the night they spent together because their schedules were so hectic and the end of the semester only added to the chaos. As a result, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He was hoping Harry’s plans to discuss the fundraiser also included some time allotted for making out. Louis really, really couldn’t wait to kiss him again.

Louis tucked his skateboard under his arm as he waited, pulling the sleeves of Harry’s rugby jersey over his hands. It was the one Harry let him borrow weeks ago—Louis had yet to return it. He had a feeling Harry would appreciate it, though.

The door swung open to reveal Rickie. He took one look at Louis and then hollered, “HARRY, YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE.”

Louis stood there quietly, deciding it was best not to complain. Rickie had a plastic wine glass in his hand with a pink heart charm dangling from the stem. It was… strange, to say the least. He could hear music wafting from the living room, the warm sound that indicated a record player.

Harry finally appeared and Rickie patted him on the shoulder before disappearing inside the house. Louis was so distracted by how beautiful and cute Harry look that he didn’t notice the confused expression on his face until a moment later. He was barefoot, in a fluffy purple bathrobe, also holding a wine glass.

“Louis, hey,” Harry said, like he was out of breath. He dipped forward and kissed Louis sweetly in greeting, his lips tasting of wine. “What are you doing here?”

His heart dropped. “You texted me earlier..?”

Harry stared at him. “Oh.  _ Oh. _ Fuck-”

“Sorry,” Louis rushed. “Am I interrupting something? I’m interrupting something.”

He ran his free hand through his hair, messing up the loose curls. “Yes- I mean no- Fuck, I’m sorry, I totally forgot we were gonna work on the fundraiser tonight. Umm, shit, sorry something came up. Is it- can we take a rain check?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Sorry for interrupting..?”

“No, don’t apologize, this is all my fault.” He laughed a little, self-deprecatingly putting his face in his free hand. “Some of my brothers were messing around and they said some shit, like, homophobic shit, whatever, it was just insensitive and I’ve been kind of annoyed all day, so. I didn’t mean to snap at them, but it happened.” He sighed, frustrated, like he was disappointed in himself.

“Huh. That sucks.” Louis knew the tensions had been high in Phi Kapp ever since Harry revealed he was queer. Harry sometimes told him about things that happened and how he was slowly trying to change the climate of the frat to encourage people to be more inclusive and less shitty. It wasn’t easy work and Louis admired Harry for being so patient and  _ good. _ “So what’s with the wine?”

“Oh. That. Yeah.” He smiled a bit drunkenly. “After I yelled at everyone, I felt bad. I mean, they’re my brothers, you know? This is my frat. I really do love them, even if they’re little shits sometimes.”

Louis nodded slowly, eyeing the way Harry waved his hand more dramatically than when he was sober. He was so cute like this, it was almost unbearable. Louis wanted to dig his thumbs into his dimples and kiss his rueful, embarrassed smile.

“Yeah, so basically after I yelled at everyone, I was like, ‘we’re popping open a bottle of red wine, listening to Norah Jones, and just, like, being open with one another.’”

Louis smiled and shook his head, reaching out to pat Harry’s cheek. “You’re so sweet, you giant dork. Enjoy your boy’s night. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, please. Can we- um. How do you feel about morning sex?”

He bit his lip at Harry’s boldness, suppressing a laugh. It was definitely the wine, but Louis wasn’t going to complain. “I am a fan.”

“Good. Okay. Holy shit. Satsu.”

Louis’ eyed widened. “What?”

“Fuck,” he threw his arms around Louis and wrapped him in a hug, groaning into his neck. “I just realized you’re wearing my jersey!”

“What- oh.” He had forgotten about that. “Yep.”

“You look so hot, holy fuck.”

Louis wasn’t used to being called hot, so he would take it. Cute was more common when people complimented him. It was nice to know his sorta-boyfriend thought he was hot.

“You’re my favorite person ever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re so sexy and you laugh at my jokes.”

“So that’s the criteria, huh?”

“I would really, really, really like you to go up to my room and wait for me in my jersey, in my  _ bed, but- _ that is selfish of me, because this might take a while-”

“You need to be there for your brothers,” Louis agreed, laughing. He was immensely enjoying Harry’s tipsy proclivity to rambling quicker than Louis had ever heard him speak before.

“I’ve never had sex before,” Harry blurted. He slapped his hand over his mouth.

Louis’ mouth dropped. “Oh.”

“I mean, fuck, I’ve done like- I just haven’t,” he mimed putting his finger in a hole, “You know-”

“Hey, it’s okay, I know what you mean. We can talk about it tomorrow. In the morning. When you come over.”  _ And when you’re not drunk. Adorably drunk. _ He grinned again. “Don’t expect me to get all dressed up for you. You’ll have me in my pajamas or not at all.”

“You look so sexy in your pajamas,” Harry insisted, tone completely serious, like it was imperative for Louis to know this.

The fact that Harry had actually seen him in his pajamas various times over the past few weeks, definitely enough times to develop an opinion about it, made him blush. “All right, well, you’re in luck, then.”

“Why are you laughing at me? I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”

Louis shook his head and raised up on his toes to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek, and then another to the corner of his mouth. “You’re just adorably sweet. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Please don’t be hungover. You have a promise to keep.”

The gentle embarrassment of saying those words out loud, in that tone, was all worth it for the look on Harry’s face. He took advantage of the moment of awe to kiss him once again, chaste and teasing.

“See you tomorrow,” he repeated. “We’ll get breakfast after.”

“After,” Harry repeated in a strained, awestruck voice.

Louis pressed his lips together in a smirk and backed away. He smoothly stepped onto his skateboard and waggled his fingers before turning away, smiling wide now.

He had a breakfast date with Harry Styles. Or maybe it was a sex date. Both were great. Phenomenal, even.

Despite the fact that the uphills were killer, he smiled all the way home.

  
  


**XX.**

(In the morning, Harry knocked on Louis’ door. Louis, clad in comfy sweats and a sweater slipping off his shoulder, opened the door and sleepily tugged him inside. They collapsed in bed and kissed until the sun came up. Then Harry sat against the headboard and Louis opened himself up on his fingers so he could watch, before straddling him and sinking down. It was all burning heat and wandering hands, desperate to touch and feel, fissures of pleasure crackling throughout their universe.)

(Harry had brought a bag full of his favorite candles, and they were all alight on the windowsill. This time, the only music they listened to was the music they created with their own labored breathing and soft, raspy moans. Louis wrapped he arms around Harry’s neck, burying his face in his hair, and Harry caressed his waist like he was the finest sculpture in the world.)

(Harry accidentally said ‘I love you’ when he came. Louis intentionally said it back. They smiled into each other’s mouths through the next, exploring the togetherness of their physical beings. They smiled all throughout their shower together, washing each other reverently. They smiled all through breakfast at the cafe where they had their first real conversation. They sat on the same side of the booth this time, sharing breakfast foods and laughing over everything.)

(Louis fiddled with their matching rainbow bracelets, the subtle hint that they were the same. The hint from the universe, that night at the party, that made Louis feel safe enough to kiss a complete stranger.)

(Harry grabbed Louis’ fingers to warm his cold fingers. Somehow, Louis knew they were thinking the same thing.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I love you!!!
> 
>   
> [Reblog the fic post!](https://angelichl.tumblr.com/post/189230580534/play-pretend-find-a-friend-by-angelichl)
> 
> [angelichl on tumblr](https://angelichl.tumblr.com/)


End file.
